)  *%4. 


DAVIDEIS: 

THE 

LIFE 

■ 

OF 

DAVID, 

K  I  N  G     OF     ISRAEL; 


SACRED    POEM. 


IN  FIVE  BOOKS. 


BY  THOMAS  ELLWOOD* 


>cribimus  indacti  doctique  poemeta..— Hor, 


PHILADELPHIA : 

fRINTED  BY  JOSEPH  CRUKSKAfrK 


1805 


£JS£ 


TO  THE  READER, 


WHEN  first  I  began  the  following  Poem  I  was  so 
far  from  thinking  of  the  Press  that  I  aimed  no 
farther  than  to  describe,  and  that  for  my  own  diversion 
•nly,  the  monomachie,  or  single  combat,  between  the 
giant  and  the  stripling,  great  Goliah,  and  little  David. 

After  I  had,  in  such  sort  as  it  is,  performed  that,  I 
was  drawn  on,  insensibly,  as  it  were,  to  set  forth  the 
noble  friendship,  which,  upon  the  great  achievement  of 
David's,  was  contracted  between  Prince  Jonathan  and 
him;  with  the  effects  of  both,  the  advancement  of  David 
to  places  of  honour,  trust  and  power,  and  his  brave  disr 
charge  thereof,  in  the  service  of  his  king  and  country. 
Which,  as  it  gained  him  the  great  love  of  the  people,  so> 
it  procured  him  the  high  displeasure  of  the  king  r  And 
as  consequent  thereof,  the  troubles  he  afterwards  went 
through. 

Having  attended  him  so  far  in  his  prosperity  and  great- 
ness, I  could  not  find  in  my  heart,  meMought,  to  leave 
him  in  his  adversity  and  depressed  state  ;  but  accompany- 
ing him  through -his  sufferings  under  Saul,  I  waited  on 
hiirr,  till  I  had  seen  him  fairly  settled  on  the  Throne  of 
Israel. 

There  again  I  made  a  stand,  as  willing  to  have  made; 
that  the  bound  of  my  undertaking.  But  after  I  had  paus- 
ed a  while,  looked  back,  and  viewed  the  steps  I  had 
taken  ;  observed  from  what  a  low  beginning,  through 
what  extream  difficulties  and  hardships,  to  what  a  tow- 
ering pitch  of  height  and  glory  our  hero  was  advanced  ^ 
and  considered  also,  how  soon  this  great  and  mighty 
monarch,  this  excellent  man,  through  a  sudden  temp- 
tation  of  lust,  excited  by  the  alluring  bait  of  beauty s 


iv  TO  THE  READER, 

fell  into  those  gross  and  heinous  sins  of  adultery  and 
murder  ;  I  could  not  forebear  to  display  that  part  of  his 
life  also,  as  foreseeing  there  might  some  useful  remarks 
be  made  thereon,  which  might  be  of  service  to  caution 
others.  Wherefore,  running  hastly  over  the  former  part 
of  his  reign,  and  but  lightly  touching,  in  a  general  way, 
his  wars  and  martial  enterprizes  ;  I  entered  as  directly 
as  I  well  could,  upon  the  foul  story  of  fair  Bethsheba  ', 
and  as  consequent  thereof,  the  contrived  death  of  her  a- 
bused  husband,  the  brave  and  valiant  Uriah.  Which, 
with  the  better  account  of  David's  eminent  sorrow  for 
it,  repentance  of  it,  recovery  from  it,  and  restoration  to 
the  favour  of  God  again,  closes  the  third  book. 

There,  indeed,  I  was  forced  to  make  another  stop  ; 
which  I  thought  would  have  proved  a  full  stop  :  For  it 
lasted  more  than  twenty  years.  The  Poem  was  begun, 
and  so  far  carried  on  (excepting  only  the  first  chapter  of 
the  first  book)  in  the  year  1588  ;  when  the  Prince  of 
Orange  landing,  and  the  nation  being  in  arms  5  the  noise 
of  guns,  the  sound  of  drums  and  trumpets  ec  affrighted 
and  disturbed  my  peaceful  muse,  that  both  she  for  a 
while  foresook  me,  and  I  thereupon  the  work,  save  that, 
upon  a  review,  some  time  after,  observing  how  abrupt- 
ly David  was  brought  in  ;  that  he  might  net  look  like 
one  of  the  knights-errant  of  old,  rushing  into  a  fray 
with  his  beaver  down,  that  none  could  know  either  who 
he  was,  or  whence  he  cane  I  added  the  first  chapter  ; 
thereby  beginning  the  Story  a  little  higher,  that  I  might 
oduce  my  hero  with  somewhat  more  advantage. 

There  it  rested,  without  any  respect  of  its  ever  going 
further,  until  the  last  winter  ;  when  having  less  health, 
and  more  leisure,  than  at  some  times  before,  I  took  it 
up  for  an  entertainment,  to  make  some  uneasy  hours 
pass  somewhat  less  uneasily  over.  And  after  I  had  read 
it  through,  considering  with  myself,  that  if,  after  my 
death,  being  found  amongst  my  loose  papers,  it  should 
be  committed  to  the  press,  it  could  pass  for,  at  best,  but 
an  imperfeel,  or  unfinished  piece ;   I  found  an  inclination 

of 


TO  THE  READER.  v 

of  mind,  to  carry  on  the  story,  if  I  could,  to  the.  end  of 
David's  life.  Wherefore,  giving  a  kind  invitation  to 
my  gentle  muse  to  return  (who  by  some  short  visits,  on 
particular  occasions,  in  the  interval,  had  given  me  some 
ground  to  hope  she  had  not  quite  abandoned  me)  I  en- 
tered again  upon  the  subject,  where  I  had  left  off ;  and 
by  degrees  went  through  it,  till  I  had  brought  my  war- 
like hero  to  his  peaceful  grave. 

After  it  was  finished,  deliberating  abotit  the  publish- 
ing of  it  ;  as  whether  to  publish  it  myself,  or  leave  it, 
as  a  posthume,  to  be  published  (if  thought  fit)  by  some 
kind  hand,  after  my  death  :  The  reasons  which  turned 
the  balance  for  present  printing  were,  first,  that  at  pre- 
sent the  press  is  open  ;  which  possibly  may  hereafter  be 
shut.  And  secondly,  that  if,  upon  publication  of  it, 
Momus  should  carp  (which  he  is  but  too  apt  to  do,  even' 
where  there  is  less- occasion  for  it)  I  might  be  at  hard, 
ready  myself,  to  answer  his  cavils,  who,  if  any  cause  be 
given  for  them,  gave  it  ;  though  assuredly,  without  any 
in  tention  so  to  dc, 

Till  I  had  wholly  finished,  and  transcribed  also,  t::!s 
Poem,  I  had  not  had  the  opportunity  of  perusing  tbft 
learned  Cowley's  Davideis  ;  though  I  had  he  a/. 1  .  •' 
it,  and  I  think,  had  once  a  transient  sight  of  it,  I 
I  began  this.  Since  I  have  read  it  through,  with  my 
best  attention;  and  am  very  well  pleased,  that  I  had 
not  read  it  before  ;  lest  his  great  name,  high  style,  and 
lefty  fancy,  should  have  led  me,  thoJ  unawares,  into  an 
apish  Imitation  of  them  ;  which  doubtless  would  have 
looked  very  oddly  and  ill  in  me,  how  admirable  soever 
in  him. 

His  arm  and  mine  differ  widely  ;  the  method  of 'each 
no  less.  He  wrote  for  learned  ;  and  those  too  of  the 
upper  form  ;  and  his  flights  are  unanswerable.  I  write 
far  common  readers  ;  in  a  style  familiar,  and  easy  to  be 
understood  by  such*  His  woidd  have  needed  (if  he  had 
»ot  added  it)  a  large  paraphrase  upon  it,  to  explain  the 

ffttft-7 
A  2 


vi  TO  THE  READER. 

many  di^cuit  passages  in  it.  Mine,  as  it  has  none,  will 
not  I  hope,  need  any. 

I  have  the  same  aim  in  this,  the  same  inducement  t^ 
it,  as  I  had  writting  the  sacred  history  of  both  the  Old 
and  New-Testament,  viz.  To  invite  and  to  endeavour  to 
draw  all  the  Youth  especially,  of  either  sex,  to  improve 
their  time  and  studies,  by  employing  both  in  reading 
better  books,  written  on  better  subjects,  than  too  many 
of  them  too  often  do. 

I  am  not  so  wholly  a  stranger  to  the  Writings  of  the 
most  celebrated  poets,  as  well  ancient  as  modern,  as  not 
to  know,  that  the  great  embellishments  of  their  Poems 
mostly  in  their  extravagant,  and  almost  bound- 
Less  fancies  ;  amazing,  and  even  dazelling  nights  ;  lux- 
urious inventions  ;  wild  hyperboles  ;  lofty  language  ; 
with  an  introduction  of  angels,  spirits,  daemons,  and 
their  respective  deities,  &c.  which,  as  not  suitable  to 
nay  purpose,  I  industriously  abstained  from. 

In  a  word,  I  am  not  so  vain  to  seek  applause,  I  do 
rot  expect  to  be  commended.  If  criticks,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  carpers  on  the  other,  will  give  me  leave  to 
pass  the  streets  quietly,  without  quarrelling  or  jostling, 
i.is  all  I  ask  at  their  hands.  I  don't  affect  the  title  of 
Poet.  Let  'em  call  me,  in  that  respect,  what  they 
please.  The  learned  and  good-natured,  will,  I  hope, 
be  favourable  in  their*  censures  :  The  ignorant  and  crab- 
bed I  regard  not.  I  am  more  modest  than  to  expect 
admission  among  the  best  Poets  ;  and  yet  think  it  a  lit- 
tle below  me,  to  be  ranked  with  the  very  worst.  Nee 
us  sum,  nee  inscribo  praxitelem.  I  am  content  to 
«alk,  if  I  may  be  allowed,  in  the  *middle  way  ;  where 
tha  safest  walking  is,  and  where  I  shall  be  sure  to  find 
Virtu B  ;  than  whom,  I  desire  no  better  company. 

DAVIDIES. 

•  >.  Medio  Virtu*.  Medio  Tutlss'mus  ibis.« 


DAVIDEIS, 

BOOK  I. 
CHAPTER    I. 


I  sing  the  life  of  David,  Israel's  King  ! 
Assist,  thou  sacred  pow'r,  who  did'st  him  bring* 
From  the  sheepfold  and  set  him  on  the  throne  ;, 
Thee  I  invoke,  on  thee  rely  alone. 
Breathe  on  my  muse  ;  and  till  her  slender  quill 
With  thy  refreshing  dews  from  Hermon-hili : 
That  what  she  sings  may  turn  unto  thy  praise, 
And  to  thy  name  may  lasting  trophies  raise. 

AFTER  King  Saul  had   (by  the  sin  he  wrought. 
In  Amalek)  divine  displeasure  brought 
Upon  himself  and  so  the  Lord  provok'd 
(Though  his  offence  he  with  religion  cloak'd) 
That  God  of  his  promotion  did  repent, 
And,  in  decree,  the  kingdom  from  him  rent ; 
Whilst  the  good  prophet,  on  his  mournful  string, 
Bewail'd  the  destin'd  downfal  of  the  king  : 
God  to  him  did  his  sacred  herald  call 
(Sam'l,  by  whom  he  had  anointed  Saul) 
And  said,  how  long  for  Saul  do'st  mean  to  mourn  * 
lip,  quickly  fill  with  sacred  cil  thy  horn  ; 
To  Bethlernitish  Jesse,  I  intend 
Thee,  on  a  special  errand  strait  to  send  ; 
Far  I,  among  his  sons,  provided  have 
A  King,  who  shall  my  people  rule  and  save. 
Though  to  the  prophet  it  was  fully  known, 
God  had  Saul  deteimin'd  to  dethrone, 

And 


a  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I. 

And  raise  another  (for  himself  did  bring 

Fromtj-od  th'  unwelcome  sentence  to  .the  king  : 

Yet  did  this  dang'rous  errand  him  surprise  ; 

Ar.i,  smit  with  fear,  how  can  I  go  !   lie  cries, 

If  jealous  Saul  should  of  the  bus'ness  hear, 

My  head  must  pay  for  mine  offence,  I  fear. 

The  Lord,  a  gracious  master,  fully  knew 

The  prophet's  heart  was  firm,  upright  and  trie  , 

And  that  his  fear  from  fraility  did  arise, 

A  fair  expedient  for  him  did  devise. 

Go,  go,  said  he,  an  heifer  with  thee  take  j 

And  say,.  I  come  a  sacrifice  to  make 

Unto  the  Lord  :   Call  Jesse  thereunto  ;. 

And  I  will  then  direct  thee  what  to  do.. 

Go,  entertain  no  fear,  but  fear  of  me, 

And  him  anoint,  whom  I  shall  shew  to  thee. 

Away  went  Samuel.     And  to  Bethl'em  come, 
Conven'd  the  elders  of  the  place  ;  on  whom 
A  trembling  fell,  a  dreadful  pannick  Fear, 
Lest  some  great  ill  had  drawn  the  prophet  there  : 
Wherefore  they  ask'd  him,  if  he  came  in  peace  ? 
He  answ'ring  yes  ;  their  fears  did  quickly  cease. 
He  told  them  then,  He  came  to  hold  a  feast 
Unto  the  Lord  (that  love  might  be  encreas'd 
Among  them.)      Bid  them  haste  and  sanctify 
Themselves,  that  to  the  feast  they  might  draw  nigh, 

Then  unto  Jesse's  house  the  prophet  went, 
Upon  his  special  errand  most  intent. 
Amongst  his  sons  when  Eliab  he  espy'd, 
This  must  be  he,  within  himself  he  cry'd  ; 

Eliab  was  eldest,  stout  and  tall, 
A  fit  successor,  he  might  think,  for  Saul  » 
He  therefore  said,  surely  the  Lord's  anointetL 
Is  now  before  him  :  This  hath  he  appointed. 

But  God  thus  check'd  him.     Look  not  at  the  fact; 
Nor  outward  stature  ;    but  the  inward  grace. 
I  *iew  not  man,  like  -nan  ;  th' external  pail 
t$£  looks  upon  j  but  I  regard  the  heart. 


Book  I.  DAVIDEIS.  » 

The  prophet,  thus  instructed,  now  no  more 
Consults  weak  reason,  as  he  did  before  i 
But  when  old  Jesse  had  before  him  set 
Sev'n  of  his  sons,  all  proper  persons  ;  yet 
The  prophet,  to  his  Guide  now  keeping  close, 
Told  him,  the  Lord  had  chosen  none  of  those. 

Sure  these  are  not  they  all,  the  prophet  cry'd  ; 
No,  one  there  still  remains,  old  Jess'  reply'd, 
My  youngest  son,  my  shepherd's  place  he  fills, 
And  tends  his  fleecy  charge  on  distant  hills. 
Send,  fetch  him,  said  the  prophet  quickly  home, 
For  we  will  not  sit  down  until  he  come. 

A  speedy  messenger  for  David  flies, 
And  brings  the  sprightly  youth  before  their  eyes ; 
A  rosy  bloom  adorn'd  his  comely  face, 
Sweet  to  behold,  and  manly  with  a  grace  : 
Before  the  prophet  Jesse  makes  him  stand, 
The  prophet  soon  receiv'd  the  Lord's  command ; 
Arise,  anoint  the  youth,  for  this  is  he  : 
And  Samuel  straight  approach'd,  with  bended  need, 
Assum'd  his  horn,  and  on  young  David's  head 
The  consecrating  oil  did  freely  shed. 
From  that  day  forward,  upon  David  came 
The  spirit  of  the  Lord  ;  which  might  proclaim, . 
To  well-discerning  eyes,  his  un&ioti ;  as 
Of  Saul's  rejection  a  sure  Token  'twas, 
That  the  good  spirit  did  from  him  depart,. 
And  to  an  evil  spirit  left  his  heart. 

This  evil  spirit  from  the  Lord  is  said 
On  Saul  to  come  ;  and  it  such  trouble  made 
To  Saul,  and  all  his  servants  ;  that  they  thought 
The  best  expedient  wae,  there  should  be  sought 

-iklful  man,  who  on  his  harp  might  pi 
And  drive  that  spirit,  for  the  time  sway. 
This  they  propose.      Ke  shews  a  ready  mind 
To  try  it  ;  bids  them  such  an  harper  find. 
One  mentioned  David  :  whom  he  thus  set  forth, 
»g  player,  and  a  man  of  worth  ; 

Valiant 


%  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I 

Valiant  and  wise  ;  a  comely  person  ;  one 
To  whom  the  Lord  had  special  favour  shown. 

This  pleased  Saul ;  to  Jesse  strait  he  sent 
To  fetch  young  David  ;  David  quickly  went. 
A  tender  kid  the  chearful  youth  did  bring, 
With  bread,  and  wine,  a  present  for  the  king. 

His  office  is  assigned  him,  to  stand 
Before  the  king  ;  and  with  a  skilful  hand, 
When  Saul  was  troubled,  on  his  harp  to  play, 
And  when  he  play'd,  the  spirit  was  drove  away. 

This  made  him  dear  to  Saul.     Saul  quickly  found 
The  benefit,  which  did  to  him  redound 
From  the  sweet  harper's  music.     For  the  sake 
Whereof,  he  did  htm  armour-bearer  make. 
A  martial  office  'twas,  to  bear  the  shield 
Of  Saul,  when  he  should  march  into  the  field. 
Which  shews,  he  found  the  ycuth  as  well  could  wield 
His  arms  (a  lance,  or  spear,  and  massy  shield)    . 
And  thereby,  if  occasion  were,  defend 
His  person,  and  in  need,  due  succour  lend  ■: 
As  softly  strike  upon  the  tuneful  string  j 
And  by  harmonious  lays  relieve  the  king. 
Unwilling  therefore,  David  should  return, 
Lest  he  his  absence  might  have  cause  to  mourn, 
Ke  sent  again  to  Jesse,  to  request 
That,  with  his  leave,  he  might  be  longer  blest 
With  David's  service  ;  that  he  might  be  freed 
From  his  affliction  ;  Jesse  soon  agreed. 


CHAP.  II. 


w 


HILE  Saul  yet  reign'd  (altho'by  God  rejected, 
Because  lie  had  the  Lord's  command  neglecled) 
bold  Philistines,  with  a  mighty  host, 
[vlade  an  invasion  upon  JfrdaVs  Coast. 
Whom  to  repel  (when  Saul  the  danger  knew) 
The  men  of  Isrfel  he  together  drew. 


Bock  I.  DAVIDEIS.  5 

Upon  two  hills  the  war-like  camps  were  seen, 
A  valley  lying  in  the  midst  between. 
Each  army  standing  in  Battalia  rang'd, 
Before  a  blow  on  either  side  was  changed  ; 
From  the  Philistine  camp,  a  champion  bold, 
Came  proudly  daring,  dreadful  to  behold. 
Upon  his  scowling  brow  sat  fuming  wrath  ; 
His  name  Goliah  ;  and  his  City,  Gath. 
In  height  he  was  six  cubits  and  a  span  : 
In  truth  a  monster,  rather  than  a  man. 
He  on  his  head  did  a  brazen  helmet  wear, 
Too  great  for  any  head,  but  his,  to  bear. 
And  in  a  coat  of  mail  he  was'  array'd, 
That  of  fine  brass,  five  thousand  Shekles  weigh'd, 
His  shoulders  did  a  brazen  target  bear, 
And  on  his  legs  he  greaves  of  brass  did  wear. 
The  staff  too  of  his  spear  full  well  might  seem, 
for  bigness  to  have  been  a  weaver's  beam. 
The  head,  whereof  alone  ('tis  strange  to  say) 
Six  hundred  shekles  did  of  iron  weigh. 
Before  him  went  his  squire,  who  bore  his  shield ; 
Too  huge  for  any,  but  himself  to  wield. 

Advancing  forward  tow'rds  the  camp  of  Saul, 
To  Israel's  armies  he  aloud  did  call  ; 
And  to  this  purpose  spake  :    "  What  need  ye  try 
"  The  fortune  of  a  battle  ?  Am  not  I 
"  A  Philistine  ?  You,  servants  unto  Saul  ? 
u  Choose  you  a  man,  the  stoutest  of  you  all ; 
"  If  he  be  able  me,  in  fight  to  slay, 
"  Then  we  henceforth,  will  your  commands  obey  : 
"  But  if,  in  single  combat,  I  prevail, 
"  And  kill  him  ;  you  to  serve  us  shall  not  fail. 
*'  Come  shew  your  courage  ;  let  it  now  appear 
*  Ye  have,  at  least,  one  man,  that's  void  of  fear , 
"  All  Israel's  armies  I,  this  day  defy  : 
"-  Give  me  a  man,  that  may  my  prowess  try." 
tus  forty  days  together  did  he  brave 
litis  j  yet  none  an  answer  gave. 

For 


■*  DAVIDEIS.  Book  L 

For  Saul  himself  was  dreadfully  afraid  ; 
And  the  whole  host  of  Israel  sore  dismay'd 

While  thus  this  son  of  earth  did  proudly  vaunt, 
And  with  his  looks,  an  host  of  Hebrews  daunt, 
It  so  fell  out,  or  rather  Gcd  so  wrought, 
That  little  David  to  the  camp  was  brought  : 
David,  old  Jesse's  son,  the  Ephrathite, 
Fitter  in  shew,  to  follow  sheep,  than  fight. 

Sev'n  other  sons  had  Jesse  :  eight  in  all, 
The  eldest  three  were  serving  under  Saul. 
To  see  how  well  they  far'd  and  how  things  went, 
The  good  old  man,  the  youngest,  David,  sent, 
Not  empty  handed.      David  early  rose, 
And  to  the  camp,  with  victuals,  laded  goes : 
Yet  not  without  providing  one  to  keep, 
'Til  he  return'd,  his  father's  flock  of  sheep. 

Just  as  the  host,  to  fight  was  going  out, 
And,  for  the  signal,  did  to  battle  shout ; 
Came  David  to  the  trench  ;  with  haste  he  ran 
To  find  his  brethren,  e'er  the  fight  began. 
And,  as  with  them  he  talking  stood,  anon 
Came  forth  the  Philistine  bold  champion, 
ICridos'd  in  brass  ;  and,  with  an  hideous  cry, 
Denounc'd  his  challenge  then,  as  formerly. 
At  Sight  of  whom,  a  sight  that  carried  dread, 
The  men  of  Israel  to  their  trenches  fled. 

No  sooner  heard  young  David  the  defy, 
But  brave  disdain  did  sparkle  in  his  eye, 
His  mettle  rose,  his  breast  with  courage  swell'd, 
He  scarce  himself,  from  falling  on  with-held. 
That  spirit  which,  from  God,  upon  him  came 
At  his  anointing,  now  doth  more  inflame 
His  heart  with  holy  zeal ;  and  doth  him  bear 
Above  the  sense  of  danger,  and  of  fear. 
He  could/net  brook,  that  one,  uncircumcis'd, 
Defying  Israel,  should  go  unchastis'd. 
He  talk'd  with  one  ;  he  turn'd  him  to  another, 
(Not  daunted  with  the  chidings  of  his  brother) 

Hi 


Book  L  DAVIDEISr. 

He  let  them,  both  by  word  and  gesture,  knew, 
He  durst  against  the  great  Goliah  go. 

The  rumour  of  him  reach'd  the  royal  tent, 
And.  from  the  king  a  messenger  was  sent,"" 
To  bring  him  to  him.      In  he  nimbly  stept, 
And  said  O  king,  the  challenge  I  accept. 
Let  no  man's  courage  fail ;  for  in  the  might. 
Of  God,   I  will  with  this  Philistine  fight. 

Alas  !   said  Saul  (when  he  observ'd  the  lad, 
A  shepherd-swain,  all  in  sheep's  russet  clad) 
To  fight  with  him  thou  art  too  weak  by  far, 
Thou  but  a  youth,  and  he  a  man  of  war. 
Cast  fear  away,   O  king,  the  youth  leply'd, 
He's  strong  who  has  th'  Almighty  on  his  side. 
I  fear  the  God  of  Isr'el,  and  have  found, 
Young  tho'  I  am,  his  strength,   in  need  abound. 
Thy  servant  slew  a  lion,  and  a  bear, 
That  from  my  father's  flock  a  lamb  did,  tear. 
And  since  this  Philistine  hath,  in  hie  pride, 
The  armies  of  the  living  God  deiVd  ; 
Th'  uncircumcised  .wretch  no  more  shall  be, 
Than  was  the  lion  or  the  bear  to  me. 
The  Lord,  who  from  the  bear's  and  lion's  paw 
Did  me  preserve,  because  I  lov'd  his  law  ; 
Will,   I  believe,  as  in  his  fear  I  stand, 
Preserve  me  safe  from  that  great  giant's  hand. 

The  king  amaz'd,  yet  gla .)  withal  to  find, 
In  such  a  strait,  so  well  resolv'd  a  mind, 
Gives  his  consent,  and  prays  the  Lord  to  bless 
His  little  combatant  with  great  success. 
Himself,  with  his  own  armour,   David  arms, 
To  render  him  the  more  secure  from  harms. 
Upon  his  head  an  helmet  he  doth  put 
Ot  massy  brass,  thro'  which  no  sword  could  cut 
i  loads  him  also  with  a  cojit  of  mail, 
ch,   having  oft  been  try'd,  did  never  fail. 
On  thic  array,  his  sword  did  David  gird, 

then  essay'd  to  go  ;  but  when  he  stirr'd, 
B 


8  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I. 

oo  unwieldy  was,   he  found,  to  move  ; 
Nor  durst  he  fight  in  arms  he  did  not  prove. 
Saul's  armour,  therefore,   David  did  refuse, 
Who  fights  for  God,   must  not  man's  weapons  use. 
Saul's  armour,  therefore,  leaving  in  his  tent, 
He  took  his  trusty  staff,  and  out  he  went, 
His  sling  in  t'other  hand  ;  and,  as  he  goes, 
He  five  smooth  stones  out  of  the  Valley,  chose, 
Opens  his  scrip,  and  puts  the  stones  therein  ; 
And  then  draws  near  unto  the  Philistine. 

The  giant  rolling  round  his  staring  eyes, 
At  length  the  little  Hebrew  coming  spies  ; 
At  win  m  his  haughty  breast  with  scorn  did  swell, 
And  with  such  words  as  these  he  en  him  fell  : 

"  Am  I  dog,  thou  despicable  boy, 
"■   That  thou  attempts  thus  with  staves  t'annoy  ! 
"   Con  e  hither,   sirrah,  and  thy  £esh,  for  meat, 
*}   I'll  give  unto  the  fowls,  and  Leasts  to  eat." 

[iis  gods   (what  could  he  mention  worse  !) 
He  belches  out  an  execrable  curse, 

as  if  he  meant  the  vale  to  shake, 
,  ause  the  savage  beasts  themselves  to  quake. 
u  he  had  ended  David  did  begin, 
.red  thus,  the  haughty  Philistine 
"  Ti-a   com'st  to  me  wan  frv-.-ord,   and  shield,   and 
nne  in  the  name  and  fear      [ 
I,  tKe  Lord  of  "hosts,  by  thee  defy'd, 
FsVeJ,   to  chastise  thy  pride. 
ik   This  day,   I  trust,  into  my  hand  he'll  give 
"   Thy  scver'd  head  ;  no  longer  shalt  thou  live, 
"   Of  all  your  host,  the  carcases  this  day, 

the  fowls  and  lx  ists  be  m  ide  a  prey  ; 
i  all,  who  on  the  spacious  earth  do  dwell, 
;:  iere  is  a  (         '       sraels 
k.^  bly  it  shall  appear, 

.  •  Lord  doth  s . 
. 
ito  oar  hai 


'J 


Book  I.  DAVIDEI3. 

u  ited  youth.     And  at  tliat  word 
TK'  enraged  giant  was  go  throughly  stirr'd, 
That  forth  he  step'd,  a. 
With  direful  threats,  to  David  he  drew  near. 

neet  him  David  still  advanc'd  as  fast, 
And  from  his  sling,   a  stone  he  swiftly  cast, 

rightly  aim'd,  and  with  a  force  so  strong, 
It  picrc'd  his  Bi 

Prostrate  he  sprawling  lay,  the  bruised  earth 
Receiv'd  with  trembling,  her  gigantic  birth. 
No  sooner  David  this  au.  pies, 

But  o'er  the  vale,  he,  like  the  lightening  fli 
While  streteh'd  upon  the  ground  the  monst 
Like  some  great  mole  of  earth,  or  bank  of  clay, 
Trie  nimble  victor,  laying  by  his  s!in~, 
Did  on  his  massy  shoulders  lightly  spring, 
Where  standing,  forth  the  giant's  sword  he  dn 
A:d  therewith  did  his  neck  asunder  hew. 

Thus  with  a  sling  a. id  stone  did  David  sn 
And  slay  Goliah,  in  a  single  fight. 
O  dext'rous  Slingcr,  who  the  prize  might  win 
From  the  *  left  handed  sens  of  Benjamin  1 
Nay  rather  let  the  praise  to  him  alone 
Ascribed  be,  who  guided  hand  and  stone  ! 

The  challenge  answer'd  thus,  the  conquest  won, 
In  sight  of  both  the  armies  looking  on  ; 

monster's  head,  still  reeking  in  its  gore, 
iutnph  then,  victorious  David  bore. 
Eiim  thus  returning,  captain  Abner  meets4, 
•■-aces  and  afle&ion? itely  greets  : 
Is  his  fearless  valour  to  the  sky, 
.^ratulateG  his  happy  victory. 
By  him  conducled  to  the  royal  tent, 
?aul  he  doth  Goliah's  Head  present, 
while  the  Philistines^  their  champion  d 
tor  struck,  in  great  disorder  fled. 

Thv 
*  Judges  xx,  16. 


10  DAVIDEIS.  Booic  I. 

The  Hebrews,  shouting,  eagerly  pursue, 
And  of  them  kill'd  and  wounded  not  a  few. 
Thus  the  proud  Philistines,  the  Lord  did  quell, 
And  wrought  deliverance  for  his  Israel. 

CHAP.  III. 

^\     Son  had  Saul  whose  name  was  Jonathan, 
J~  JL  A  brave  young  prince,  and  a  courageous  man- 
He  present  was,  when  David  to  the  king 
The  trophy  of  his  victory  did  bring  : 
And  well  observing  David's  speech  and  meia 
Le  to  which  before  he'd  scarcely  seen) 
Such  love  to  David  touch'd  his  princely  heart, 
It  soon  produc'd  in  him  an  equal  part  ; 
A  noble  Frieneship  hence  between  them  grew, 
Aral  which  was  most  affected,  neither  knew. 

;i  covenant  between  them  pass'd, 
A  friendship,  that  beyond  the  grave  should  last. 
The  noble  Prince  did  of  his  robe  divest 
Himself,  and  David  to  accept  it  press'd. 
His  garments  he  on  David  did  bestow  ; 
Ev'n  to  his  sword,  his  girdle  and  his  bow. 
Vh'ch  presents  David  did,  with  thanks  accept ; 
Pledges  of  friendship,  to  be  firmly  kept. 
Id  high  esteem,  and  favour  with  the  king, 
ions  victory  did  David  bring. 
tier  now  the  shepherd  is  become, 
-  him  not  permitting  to  go  home. 
anc'd  he  is  unto  an  high  degree 
Of  honour  ;  none  so  great  with  Saul,  as  he. 
Over  the  men  of  war,  the  king  him  set, 
Wherein  his  wise  behaviour  did  him  get 
The  love  of  all  the  people,  and  of  all 
The  courtiers  too  :   A  thing  doth  rarely  fall, 
v  honours  on  him  wait  ;  and,   fpr  a  while, 
Indulgent  fortune  doth  upon  him  smile. 


Book  I.  DAVIDEIS.  H 

In  him  both  court  and  country  take  delight  :     , 
At  once  the  king's  and  people's  favourite. 

But  Oh  !   how  slippery  are  princes  courts, 
Where  fickle  fortune  with  poor  mortals  sports  ! 
And,  by  alluring-  baits,   doth  them  entice 
To  trust  themselves  upon  the  glazed  ice  : 
Then,  on  a  sudden,  e'er  they  are  aware, 
Trips  up  their  heels,  and  leaves  them  grov'ling  there. 
The  Wheel,  where  on  she  doth  her  creatures  raise, 
Is  in  continual  motion,  never  stays, 
But  always  whirls  about :   Who  sit  at  top 
To-day,  to-morrow,  to  the  bottom  drop. 

How  ticklish  is  a  favourite's  estate, 
Who  must  upon  another's  humour  wait  : 
And,  when  he  apprehends  he  stands  most  fast, 
Is  puffed  down,  with  an  inconstant  blast  ! 
If  he  the  prince's  creature  seems  to  be, 
He  hardly  'scapes  the  peoples  obliquy  ; 
All  their  mishaps  to  his  account  they  score, 
And  lay  their  disappointments  at  his  door. 
If  in  the  peoples  Favour  he  appears, 
The  prince  then  is,  or  seems  to  be  in  :;~ 
And  that  too  popular  he  may  not  grow, 
Seeks  all  occasions  how  to  lay  him  low. 
So  David  found.      The  people  sing  his  piaise  : 
And  that  in  worthless  Saul,  doth  envy  raise. 

It  so  fell  out  that,  now  the  coasts  were  clear 
From  Philistines,  and  peoples  minds  from  fear  ;. 
The  Hebrew  dames,  from  all  the  cities  round, 
With  instruments  of  most  melodious   so 
Came  tripping  out  ;  and,   all  along  the  '*\i.\r, 
Upon  the  well  tun'd  strings,  did  sweetly  play. 

ir  fingers  play'd,  their  nimble  feet  did  danca, 
For  joy  of  their  much  wish'd  deliverance. 

Together  thus  they  come,  to  meet  the  king  ; 
And,  in  his  ear1,  this  epinicion  sing  :  ' 

hath  (of  enemies)  his  thousands  slain 
David  his  ten  thousands]  with  disdain. 

B2  ths 


12  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I 

The  king  this  heard.      It  made  his  choler  rise, 
And  his  displeasure  sparkled  in  his  eyes. 

While  thus  the  women  in  their  tuneful  choir, 
Him  faintly  praise,  and  David  ten  times  more, 
The  evil  spirit,  an  evenom'd  dart 
Let  fly,  and  lodg'd  it  in  his  thoughtful  heart  : 
The  poison  wrought,  and  in  a  trice  possess'd, 
With  Saul  tormenting  jealousies,  his  breast. 
Suspicion  and  distrust,  in  him  it  bred, 
And  with  surmisings  fill'd  his  troubled  head. 

swelPd,  and  champ't  ;  at  length  his  discontent 
Did  thus  itself,  in  angry  accents,   vent  : 
To  David  they  ascribed  have,  said  he, 
Ten  thousands  :     And  but  thousands  unto  me. 
Thus  they  prefer  my  vassal  me  before  : 
And,  but  the  kingdom,  what  can  he  have  more  ? 

Hen^e  Saul  on  David  kept  an  evil  eye, 
And  to  have  slain  him,  divers  times  did  try  ; 
Ev'n  while  good  David  on  his  harp  did  play. 
Th'  affliction  of  his  spirit  to  allay. 
But  David's  God  (who  had  king  Saul  rejected, 
chosen  David)  David  still  protected. 

When  Saul  perceiv'd  (for  even  wicked  men 
Hive  bights  of  God's  outgoings,  now  and  then) 
That  God  did  prosper  David,  and  did  move 
The  hearts  of  all  the  people  him  to  love  ; 
3  [e  daily  grew  of  David  more  afraid, 
And  studied  how  he  might  be  best  betray'd. 

Two  daughters  had  king  Saul.      A  stately  dame 
The  elder  was,  and  Merab  was  her  name. 
\  topping  lady  she,  whose  lofty  look 

«  d  that  she  nothing  that  was  low  could  breok. 
Commanding  pow'r  reign'd  in  her  sparkling  eye, 
And  on  her  brow  sat  awful  majesty. 
A  spirightly  vigour  fill'd  her  manly  face, 
Which  yet  was  not  without  a  pleasing  grace. 
And  had  her  breast  been  hid,  she  might  have  go 
\ 'g  the  warriors,  for  ?,n  amazon. 


Sook  I.  DAVIDEI3.  IS 

So  look'd  Penthesilea  when  she  came 
To  Priam's  succour.      Such  another  dame 
Was  (She- who  durst  engage  in  single  fight 
With  Theseus)  the  warlike  Hip  polite. 

Unlike  hereself,  a  sister  Merab  had 
The  joy  and  grief  of  many  a  noble  lad) 
Fair  Michal  she  was  call'd,  whose  lovely  face 
No  feature  wanted  that  could  add  a  grr.ve. 
Her  body  delicate.      Wherein  enshrin'd, 
As  in  its  temple,  dwelt  a  virtuous  mind* 
Engaging  sweetness  beamed  from  her  eye, 
And  on  her  cheek  sat  maiden  modesty. 
Her  courteous  mein  gave  proof  to  all,  that  sire 
From  pride,  and  haughtiness  of  mind,   was  free. 
For  of  the  meanest  she  would  notice  take,  > 
Her  whole  converse  humility  bespake. 
So  graceful  was  her  gesture,  it  did  move, 
At  once,  beholders  to  admire  and  love. 

These  were  Saul's  daughters.     And  by  these  the  king 
Ruin  on  David  did  design  to  bring. 
By  one  cf  these  he  hoped  to  prevail, 
If  all  his  other  stratagems  should  fail. 
One  of  these  princesses  had  promis'd  been, 
To  whosoe'er  should  kill  the  Philistine. 
Which  Da. id  having  done,  might  justly  claim 
One  ;  but  the  king  had  power,  which  to  name. 
He  therefore  Merab  first  assign'd  to  be 
The  guerdon  of  young  David's  victory  ; 
But  when  the  time  approach'd,  he  chang'd  his  mird, 
And  her  unto  another's  bed  cor.sign'd. 

But  MichaPs,  lovely  Michal 's  virgin  love, 
In  strong  desires  did  unto  David  move. 
This  so  rejoie'd  her  envious  father's  ear, 
He  said,   I'll  give  her  to  him  for  a  snare. 

His  servants  he  instructed  how  to  draw 
David  to  yield  to  be  his  son-in-law. 
They  tell  him  what  delight  in  him  the  king 
Did  take ;  what  honour  it  to  him  would  bring1, 

To 


14  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I. 

To  be  unto  his  sovereign  ally'd  ; 
Besides  th*  enjoyment  of  so  fair  a  bride. 

When  he  himself  excus'd,  upon  the  score 
His  Family  was. low  :   himself  too  poor  j 
Out  of  his  slender  fortunes  to  advance 
J30  large  a  dowry  as  the  king,  perchance, 
Might  look  to  have    (for  women  then  were  thought 
it  seems,  of  worth  sufficient  to  be  bought.) 
Th'   instructed  courtiers  presently  reply'd, 
The  king  no  dowry  doth  desire,  beside 
An  hundred  fore-skins  of  his  enemies 
The  Philistines  :  that  dowry  will  suffice. 

This  was  the  snare  the  treach'rous  king  did  lay 
His  well  deserving  David  to  betray. 
Ui:gratef|Lprince  !   though  David  had  him  freed 
From  danger  when  he  made  Geliah  bleed  : 
Yet  on  set  purpose  he  this  dowry  chose, 
That  he  to  danger  David  might  expose, 
He  knew  the  valiant  youth's  advent'roua  mind 
The  greatest  hazards  never  had  declin'd. 
And,   by  porposing  this,   he  did  intend 
Davicj  to  bring  to  an  untimely  end. 

'Tws  not  ambition  to  be  son-in-law 
Unto  a  king,  did  bumble  David  draw. 
Michal's  fresh  beauty  and  affection  move 
In  youthful  David  like  returns  of  love. 

-.-hen  he  heard  what  dowry  Saul  proposed, 
He  gladly   with  the  proposition  clos'd. 
The  maid  lie  lik'd  (as  who  indeed  could  choose) 
The  terms' he  lik'd.     What  was  there  to  refuse  ? 
For  though  he  sh  raid  net  Michal  thereby  gain, 
He  gladly  would  the  Phi  ave  slain. 

Up,  with  his  men,   he  in  the  morning  gets, 
.And  on  the  Philistines  so  briskly  sets  ; 
That  tho'   with  all  the  speed  they  could,  they  fled. 
He  laid  at  least  two  hundred  of  them  dead  : 
Whose  Forskins  he  unto  the  Court  did  bring, 
And  gave  a  double  dowry  to  the  king. 

Ill 


Book  I.  DAVIBEIS.  15 

111  pleas'd  was  Saul,  that  what  he  did  projeft 
For  Davids  ruin,  wrought  not  that  effecl. 
Had  David's  head  been  lifeless  brought,  that  sight 
Would  to  his  eyes  have  yielded  more  delight. 
Yet,  since  it  would  not  further  his  design, 
To  manifest  displeasure,  and  repine  ; 
He  held  it  best,  his  promise  good  to  make  ; 
And  David  for  his  son-in-law  to  take. 
Concealing  therefore,   for  a  little  while, 
His  hatred  under  a  dissembled  smile, 
He  of  true  gladness  made  a  feigned  show, 
And  Michal  upon  David  did  bestow* 
The  marriage  rites  perform'd,  the  shepherd's  led, 
With  nuptial  songs,  to  princess  Michal' s  bed  ; 
Where  leaving  them  in  amorous  embraces, 
My  muse  their  father's  machinations  traces. 

CHAP.  IV. 


NOT  fully  were  the  princely  Nuptials  o'er, 
Not  fully  bride  and  bridegroom  joy'd  before 
Invidious  fame,  by  a  confirm'd  report, 
Disturb'd  the  pleasures  of  the  peaceful  court. 

The  Philistines,  again,  had  took  the  field  : 
The  viol  now  must  to  the  clarion  J 
David  to  ii-rld  mtWt  go  :   the  truirpet  eecmdsj 
To  bid  the  Philistines  prepare  for  wo.i 
Saul's  hope  revives,  that  t4ome  Philistine  spear 
Will  rid  him  both  of  David  and  hi°>  fear  : 
To  loose  a  battle  would  not  trouble  Saul,- 
So  he  might  lose  his  son-in-law  withal. 
But,  to  his  trouble,   David  from  the  war 
Return'd,  with  conquest,   and  without  a  scar. 
And,  to  torment  him  more,  each  enter] 
Rais'd  David  higher  in  the  peoples  e- 

'Till  now,  a  secret  'hone  restrained  S' 
That  David  bv  the  Philistines  weul«Lii 

IVui 


26  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I. 

But  hating,  by  repeated  trials,  found 
That  David  still  return'd,  without  a  wound, 
Grown  desp'rate,  and,  impatient  of  delay, 
He  bids  his  son,  and  servants,  David  slay. 

Surpris'd,  the  courtiers  on  each  other  gaze, 
As  men  whom  sudden  horror  doth  amaze  ; 
undertakes  the  work  :   all  silent  ttand, 
i  with  abhorrence  of  the  king's  command. 
They  could  not,  without  much  reluclar.ee,  hear 
death  decreed,  who  was  to  them  so  dear. 
could  the   king  a  man  amongst  them  gain, 
That  would  with  David's  blood  a  finger  stain. 

But  Jonathan,  whose  deeper  rooted  love 
Did,   with  a  stronger  spring  to  David  move, 
Was  not  content,  barely  to  hold  his  hand, 
From  executing  that  unjust  command  : 
Unless  his  utmost  pow'r  he  also  bent, 
His  brother  David's  ruin  to  prevent. 

Leaving  his  father,  therefore  out  he  goes, 
's  wicked  counsels  to  disclose 
Tc  D.i.i.  .      But  when  unto  him  he  came, 
Ah  !    How  confus'd  he  was,  'twixt  grief  and  sha:.-*- 
Ke  j.iev'cl  to  find  his  friend  so  near  death's  jaws, 
h'd  to  think  his  father  was  the  cause. 
made  him  loth  his  father's  fault  to  speak, 
But  friendship  prompted  the  design  to  break. 

Iship  prevail'd.     And  with  a  down-cast  eye 
He  made  him  understand  the  danger  nigh. 

Not  more  was  David  troubled,  when  he  heard 
What  he  before  suspe&ed  not,  nor  fcar'd  : 
Than  over-joy'd  in  Jonathan  to  find 
So  true  a  .  p,  and  so  brave  a  mind. 

e  most  endearing  terms  he  shew'd 
and  gratitude. 
The-  ,  they  concert 

Howthcy.i  nding  storm  avei* 

agreed,  1 

had  try'd 

Hi, 


Book  I.  DAVIDEIS.  17 

His  father's  temper  ;  that  he  so  might  find, 
How  deep  th'  offence  was  rooted  in  his  mind. 

They  part,    and  David  doth  himself  withdraw. 
To  court  goes  Jonathan.      With  filial  awe, 
And  humble  stile,  he  David's  cause  doth  plead  ; 
And  with  his  father  thus  doth  intercede. 

"  Let  not  the  king  against  his  servant  sin, 
"  Whose  works  to  thee-wards  ever  good  have  been. 
"   His  life  thou  know'st,  he  in  his  hand  did  put  4 
"  And  great  Goliah's  head  he  off  did  cut, 
"   The  monstrous  Philistine  by  David  fell. 
"  A  great  salvation  to  all  Israel, 
"  The  Lord  by  him  did  work.      Thou  didst  it  see  ; 
*'  And  did  therein  rejoice,  as  well  as  we. 
4<  Why  wilt  thou  David  slay  without  a  cause, 
•'  who  is  in  aft  things  subject  to  thy  laws  ? 
■**■  O  draw  not  on  thyself  the  heavy  guilt, 
"  That  waits  on  guiltless  blood  unjustly  spilt  ! 
"   Pardon,  most  honour'd  father,   I  beseech, 
"   My  boldness,  and  the  freedom  of  my  speech. 
"   It  is  for  David  that  I  humbly  sue, 
"  David,  who  doth  thine  enemies  subdue. 
"  Let  me  prevail  ;  thine  anger  pray  with-draw 
-"   From  both  my  brother,   and  thy  son-in-h.-.  - 

So  well  did  Jonathan  discharge  his  part, 
So  well  he  us'd  the  oratorian  art, 
That  he  prevail' d  :   the  king  revers'd  his  doom  : 
The  father  by  the  son  Was  overcome. 
And  that  there  might  no  ground  for  fear  remain, 
He  gave  his  oath,    David  should  net  be  skirt. 
On  which  assurance  Jonathan  d-d  !. 
David,  to  wait  again  upon  the  king. 
•Hi j  place  in  court  he  takes  ;   and  for  a  space, 
fcinds,  as  formerly,  in  seeming  grace, 
it  was  not  long  before  the  cursed  root 

did  again  begin  to  shoot  : 
.     is  Saul  a  fresh  occasion  took, 
in  evil  e  .  c  to  look. 


IS  DAVIDEIS.  Book  % 

The  restless  Philistines  the  land  again 
Invaded  had.     Whom  David  to  restrain 
His  men  led  forth  :   and-  with.'  such  fury  flew 
Upon  them,  that  he  their  main  body  slew. 
Great  was  the  slaughter  his  revengeful  blade 
Upon  the  Philistines,  at  that  time,  made  : 
That  had  not  some  secur'd  themselve  by  flight, 
The  host  of  Philistines  had  pcrish'd  quite. 

So  great  a  victory,   'twas  thought  by  all, 
Would  have  endeared  David  unto  Saul  : 
And  'twas  but  reasonable  to  expect, 
So  good  a  cause  should  yield  a  good  eflfeft. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,-  he  David  more 
Maligned  now,  than  e'er  he  did  before. 
He  saw,  that  David  daily  more  became 
The  people's  darling  :   and  he  thought  his  aim 
Was  at  the  crown.      He  let  in  a  surmise, 
That  David,  one  day,  would  against  him  rise. 
He  recollected  what  the  prophet  said 
Of  his  rejection.      And  he  was  afraid, 
David  would  prove  that  Neighbour*  unto  whom 
The  kingdom,  rent  from  him,  in  time  should  come- 
lie  63W,  that  God  did  eminently  bless 
All  David's  undertakings  with  success* 
That  David  was  unto  the  people  dear, 
He  also  saw  ;   and  that  encreas'd  his  fear. 
He  thought  withal,  that  David  did  improve, 
By  all  the  arts  he  could,  the  peoples  love  ; 
That,    having  gain'd  a  pow'rful  interest, 
He  might  by  force,  the  scepter  from  him  wrest. 
These  wrestless  workings  of  his  troubled  head, 
Perplexing  thoughts,  and  terrors  in  him  bred. 

gth  he  was  with  apprehensions  hll'd, 
That  h  If*  by  David  should  be  kill'd. 

How  miserable  is  the  state  of  those 
Whom  blind  suspicion  doth  to  fear  expose  ! 


Deat 


i  Sam.  xv.  2$. 


Book  I.  DxWIDEIS.  19 

Death  hatli  less  terror  in  it.      Who  can  fi-id 
A  torment  equal  to  a  jealous  mind  ! 

When  Saul  this  apprehension  in  had  let, 
His  passions  all  were  m  a  ferment  set ; 
Fear,  anger,  envy,  madness,  vengeful  hate 
Did  boil  together,  and  incorporate 
In  his  foul  breast ;  yet  so,  that  bloodless  fear 
Did,  in  his  face,  predominant  appear, 
Those  other  passions  ready  were  t'invent 
New  kinds  of  tortures,  David  to  torment  : 
But  fear  o'er-rul'd,  insinuating  he, 
By  David's  death,  himself  from  death  might  free. 
And  that  it  must  be  by  a  sudden  s:rd*ke, 
Lest  David  should  the  peoples  help  invoke, 
And  they  by  force  him  rescue.     Thus  again 
Is  guiltless  David  destin'd  to  be  slain, 
By  secret  sentence  in  the  king's  own  heart, 
Which  he  resolv'd  he  would  to  none  impart. 
For  he  no  more  would  trust  to  friend,  or  foe : 
But  his  own  hand  should  -; 


CHAP.  V. 

WHEN  thus  the  king  had  D.  ign'd, 

The  faithful  chief,  whose  uncorrupted  n 
Was  never  tainted  with  disloyal  stain, 
Returned  from  battle  to  the  com  I 
And,  as  a  proof  of  victory  did  brii 
Ot  spoils,  a  chosen  present  to  the  king. 
7  easily  is  innocence  betray'd, 
-  i  under  shews  of  kindness,  snares  are  1 
apprehension  had  the  guiltless  youth 
Of  danger  ;  arm'd  with  probity  and  tr 
tich  an  inoffensive  mind  did  bear, 

from  all  suspicious  fear  - 
V  itti  confidence  unto  the  king  he 
• 


SO  DAVlDEIS.  Book  I. 

And  doth,  in  order,  unto  him  relate 
The  battle,  and  his  army's  present  state. 

The  crafty  king  too,  at  the  first  congress 
No  token  of  displeasure  did  express. 
But,  under  outside  kindness,  inward  hate 
Concealing,  did  a  fitter  season  wait 
To  execute  his  purpose  ;  that  the  blow 
Might  be  secure,  which  should  his  anger  show. 

Nor  did  he  long  for  an  occasion  wait, 
But,  in  a  while,  as  in  his  house  he  sate  j 
The  evil  spirit  from  the  Lord  (for  God 
Makes  use  of  evil  spirits,  as  a  rod) 
Upon  him  came  ;   his  jav'lin  in  his  hand, 
And  David,  playing  en  his  harp,  did  stand 
Before  him,  with  refreshing  tunes  t'  allay 
His  grief,  and  the  evil  spirit  drive  away. 

So  kind  an  office,  sure,  one  might  have  thought, 
Upon  the  worst  of  natures  would  have  wrought  ; 
And  hinder'd  even  the  most  savage  mind, 
From  perpetrating  what  he  had  design'd 
But  Saul,  now  hard'ned  to  a  brutish  rage, 
Beyond  the  force  of  harmony  t'  asswage, 
Thinking  he  now  had  sure  advantage  got 
To  strike  the  stroke,  when  David  ey'd  him  not. 
His  jav'lin  at  him,  with  such  fury,  cast, 
That,  had  it  hit,  that  hour  had  been  his  last. 
But  who  the  kingdom  unto  David  gave, 

,v  from  threat' ned  danger  save. 
rftet'ling  of  Saul's  garment  (when  on  high 
..Yd  his  arm.  to  let  the  jav'lin  fly) 
[t  David  look,  and  nimbly  slip  aside, 
While  the  sharp  pointed  shaft  did  by  him  glide  ; 
.'. !.,  whirling  by,  with  such  a  force  did  fall, 
t  fast  it  3tuck  upon  the  adverse  wall. 
'Twas  time  for  David  warning  now  to  take, 
for  his  safety  due  provision  make. 
q  now  he  could  no  longer  trust, 
Y  itl:  ere,  that  neither  grateful  was,  nor  just,   • 


Out 


4 


Book  i.  DAYIDE1S.  21 

One,  whom  no  services  could  render  kind  : 
Nor  the  most  solemn  promises  could  bind. 
One,  who,  to  gratify  his  groundless  hate, 
Stuck  not  his  sacred  oath  to  violate. 
With  such  an  one  it  was  not  safe  to  stay  : 
While  therefore  safe  he  was,  he  went  away. 
The  treach'rous  court  he  speedily  forsook, 
And  to  his  private  house  himself  betook, 
His  faithful  wife  acquainting  with  the  case, 
Her  father's  falsehood,  and  his  own  disgrace. 

'-lean  while,   the  wrathful  king  (whose  hot  desire 
Of  David's  death,  had  set  him  all  on  fire). 
Vex'd  that  his  rust'ling  robe  that  warning  gave 
To  David,  from  the  stroke  himself  to  save  ; 
And  fearing  lest,  if  now  he  got  away, 
He  might  the  wrong  revenge  another  day  : 
All  in  a  rage,  he  certain  of  his  guard 
(Whose  surly  looks  bespake  their  natures  hard) 
Unto  him  call'd  ;  and  charg'd  them  to  repair 
Forthwith  to  David's  house,  and  slay  him  "here. 

With  down-cast  looks  th^  troubled  guards  receive 
The  unexpected  charge.     The  court  they  leave  ; 
And  lest  they  should,  for  backwardness  be  check'd, 
To  David's  house  their  heavy  steps  direct. 
There  make  a  stand,  and  set  a  private  watch, 
That  David,  stepping  out,  they  might  dispatch. 

But  loyal  Michal,  whose  mistrustful  eye 
Had  all  the  ways  survey'd,  did  them  descry  ; 
And  told  her  husband,  if  he  should  remain 
In's  house  till  morning,  he  would  then  be  slain  : 
Then  thro'  a  lattice,  did  direct  his  eye 
To  the  place  where  th'  insidious  guards  did  lie. 

The  sight  of  these,  and  sense  for  what  th 
Did  his  advent'rous  courage  so  enfiame, 
That  had  not  Michal,  weeping,  on  him  h  : 

oldly  had  himself  among  them  flung, 
V     :h  sword  in  hand.      But  Michal's  moving  t       - 
listen  to  hst  pressing  fears, 

Toeetfiei 


22  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I 

Together  thereupon  they  counsel  take  ; 
What  means  are  best  his  safe  escape  to  make  : 
Love  shews  the  way  ;  fair  Michal  doth  propose  ? 
And  David,  won  by  her,  doth  therewith  close. 
:  darkness  had  the  place  of  light  possess'd, 
And  drowsy  sleep  had  mortals  laid  to  rest  ; 
When  through  the  sable  clouds  no  star  appear  d 
No  warlike  sound,  no  busy  Noise  was  heard, 
hal   (who  had  all  things  ready  got, 
Needful  to  carry  on  the  harmless  plot) 
g  her  dearest  David  eft  embrae'd 
(While  he  encircled,  with  his  arms,  her  waist) 
Did  through  a  window,  gently  let  him  down  ; 
And  softly  said,  live,  David,  for  the  crown. 
May  God  thee  keep,  and  bring  the  safe  again 
Unto  thy  Michal.      He  reply'd  amen. 
Then  with  a  sigh,  she  did  the  window  close* 
Her  sigh  he  echo'd  ;  and  away  he  goes. 

CHAP.  VI. 


N  David,  in  a  mournful  plight, 

ath  tt    covert  of  j  ne  flight ; 

1  dwell 
His  SamueL 

he  to  the  pro]  all 

om  Saul. 
d  sought,  he  doth  relal 
is  own   unhappy  state. 
The  th  David's  cause  be 

not  sink,  or  fail, 
•  in  the  Lord  to  trust, 
..    rciful  and  just. 
•    shedi 
. 


Book  I.  DAVIDEIS.       I  '23 

By  God's  command ;  that  being  so  anointed, 

He  to  the  kingdom  was  by  God  appointed $ 

Who  through  his  troubles,  would  him  still  preserve 

From  hurt,  if  he  from  God  did  never  swerve.  t 

Advis'd  him  therefore,  not  t©  let  in  fear, 

How  great  soe'er  his  perils  might  appear  : 

But  trust  in  God,  who  never  will  forsake 

The  wrong'd,    who  him  for  their  protestor  take. 

David  thus  strengthen'd  ;  he  and  Samuel 

To  Najoth  go  ;  and  there  together  dwell. 

Mean  while,  with  eager  eyes,  th'  impatient  king 
Look'd  every  moment  when  his  guards  would  bring 
The  head  of  David.      In,  at  length  they  corne, 
And  tell  him,  David's  sick  a-bed  at  home. 
For  with  that  shift,  when  they  the  door  drew  nigh, 
And  ask'd  for  David,  Michal  put  them  by  : 
Having  an  image  placed  in  his  bed, 
With  goats-hair  pillow  laid,  as  'twere  his  head. 

With  furrow'd  brows,  and  countenance  severe, 
The  disappointed  king  his  guards  did  hear  ; 
With  sharp  reproaches  blam'd  their  negligence, 
And  sent  them  back,  with  speed,  to"  bring  him  thence. 
Go  fetch  him,  bed  and  all,  without  delay, 
Said  he,  that  I  myself  the  wretch  may  slay. 

They  go.      But  Oh  !   the  rage  that  in  him  burn'd, 
And  at  his  nostrils  fum'd  when  they  return'd, 
And  brought  him  word  that,  David  being  fled, 
They  found  an  image  only  in  his  bed. 
How  did  he  rage  and  storm  !   incens'd  the  more 
At  this  escape,  than  e'er  he  was  before. 
Inflam'd  to  think,  that  by  a  woman's  wile, 
His  daughter  Michal  should  him  thus  beguile, 
His  passion  heighten'd,  that  his  troops  should  let      ' 
His  hated  son  have  time  away  to  get. 
But  that  which  most  of  all  disturb'd  his  mind, 
Was,  that  he  David  knew  not  where  to  find. 
And  fci-.l  he  would  have  fell,  it  might  be  fear'd, 
D  his  guards,  had  he  not  timely  heard 

C  2  That 


m  DAVIDEIS.  Book   I. 

That  David,  in  the  dark,  to  Najoth  slid  ; 
And  there  himself  among  the  prophets  hid. 
Forthwith  to  Najoth  Messengers  he  sent, 
To  fetch  him  thence  ;  away,  with  speed,  they  went. 
But  he.e,   the  Lord  himself  doth  interpose, 
To  save  his  David  from  approaching  foes  : 
For  when  they  to  the  prophets  school  were  come, 
And  saw  the  company  of  prophets  ;   some 
Then  prophesying,  all  the  rest  attent. 
And  Sam'el  standing  o'er,  as  president, 
They  cc aid  not  David  touch  :  but  on  them  all 
Whq  were,  to  apprehend  him,  sent  by  Saul, 
A  Spirit  came  from  God  ;  arid  they  began 
To  prophesy,  in  order,  man  for  man. 
Thrice  did  this  stubborn  king  this  course  repeat,"] 
thrice  did  Gc:d  his  base  intent  defeat. 

No  sooner  came  his  messengers  among 

The  prophets,  but  prophetic  motes  they  sung. 

GalPd  with  these  disappointments,  tlr  angry  ki 

(Whom  envy,   fear,  and  jealousy  did  sting) 

Resolves  in  person  he'ii  to  Najoth  go  ; 

And  once  more  try  what  he  himself  can  do  : 

Forward  he  sets,  and  subt'liy,  as  he  went, 

Contriv'd  how  he  might  David  circumvent. 
e'er  he  got  to  Najoth,  on  him  fell 

A  spirit  from  the  Lord  ;  and  he,  as  well 

As  they  whom  he  before  had  sent,  began 

To  '  .   and  prophesying  ran 

To  Najoth,  where,  at  sight  of  Samuel, 

t  stripping  ofFhis  clothes,  he  prostrate  fell 

Upon  the  ground  ;  and  in  that  rueful  plights 
■  naked  all  that  day,  and  ail  that  night. 
..  ice  a  proverbial  speech  it  grew  to  be, 

When  in  religious  company  we  see, 

An  impious  man  affeft  a  saintly  shew, 

Is  Saul  among  the  pious  prophets  too  ! 
How  admirable  are  the  ways  of  God, 

Whether  his  staff,  he  uses;  or  his  Rod 'I 


Book  I,  DAVIDEIS.  26 

The  first  of  these  his  fainting  ones  doth  stay  : 
The  last  do  them  correct  thai  ran  astray. 
Who  would  not  that  resistless  being  fear, 
Who  eas'ly  thus  can,  in  a  moment  veer 
Our  fixt  intent  ?  who   would  not  to  that  hand 
His  will  submit,  that  can  all  wills  command  I 

How  resolutely,  in  an  head  strong  will, 
Did  Saul  determine  he  would  David  kill  i 
How  eagerly  did  he  his  will  pursue, 
His  trembling  hands  in  David's  blood  t'  imbrue  ! 
What  direful  threat'nings  did  he  vent,   \vha 
Would  ao,  could  he  again  but  David  see  ! 
Yet,  when  he  came  where  David  was,  we  find 
That  awful  pow'r  his  spirit  strait  -lid  bind  : 
He  could  not  David  touch.      No  pow'r  he  had;, 
How  bad  soe'er  his  will  was,  to  be  bad. 
But  over-pow'r'd  (though  evil  was  his  heart) 
.He  was  constraint!  to  act  the  prophet's  part. 
He  spake,  and  did  as  prophets  us'd  to  do, 
Who  were  inspired  by  the  Lord  thereto. 
Small  odds,  perhaps,  or  none  to  outwai 
Distinguish'd  this  wrong  prophet  fror 
Each,  probably,  alike  might  a£l,   and  sgea] 
And  be  alike  regarded,  by  the  weak, 
The  undiscerning  croud,  who  seldom  try 
Beyond  the  outward  ear,  and  outward  eye. 
Yet  plain  it  is,  that  Saul  was  row  no  mere 
By  God  regarded,  than  he  was  before. 
He  prophesied,  when   he  was  among 
The  prophets  ;   but  his  spirit  slill  was  wro 

One  long  before   (who  Balak  taught  to  .. 
A  dang'rous  stumbling-block  in  Israel's  way) 
A  grand  example  is,  that  wicked  men, 
Against  their  wills  may  utter,   now  and  ther, 
Those  sacred  mysteries,  which  G- 
Doth  by  his  spirit,  unto  man  mak 


26  DAVIDEIS.  Book  L 

What  glorious  things  did  Beor's  son*  declare 
Concerning  Jacob's  seed  ?  how  precious  are 
The  prophesies,  wherein  he  did  foretell 
The  beauty,  strength,  and  state  of  Israel ! 
What  soul  refreshing  comforts  do  arise, 
In  pious  minds,  from  those  sweet  prophecies  ! 
And  well  they  may  ;  for  God  himself  had  put 
Into  the  prophets' s  mouth  a  word  and  shut 
His  divinations  out  ;  whereby  we  know, 
His  speech  did  from  the  holy  spirit  flow. 

Yet  this,   perhaps,  of  prophets  was  the  worst, 
Who,  for  advantage,  would  have  Israel  curs'd, 
For  which,  how  well  soe'er  he  spake,  he  stands 
Condemn'd  upon  record,   with  pub-lick  brands. 
Yet  God,  to  shew  his  sov'reignly,  doth  choose, 
{Sometimes,  the  tongues  of  such  of  these  to  use. 
Who,  though  the  truths  they  tell  may  be  believ'd  * 
Yet  are  not  they  themselves  to  be  received. 
Though  Balaam  did  of  Jacob's  f  star  declare, 
The  sword  of  Isr'el  did  not  Balaam  ^  spare  : 
Nor  is  it  long  e'er  prophesying  Saul 
Will  be  oblig'd  upon  his  sword  to  §  fall. 

May  these  examples  lead  us  to  beware 
How  we  receive  such  (preach  they  ne'er  so  fair) 
For  gospel  ministers.      But  let  us  rather 
Observe   (as  he  ||  of  old)   but  who's  their  father  ? 
For  men  may  glorious  truths  declare,  we  see, 
Yet  they  the  children  of  the  devil  be 

CHAP.  VII. 

WHILE  Saul  among  the  seers  enraptur'd  lay, 
Depriv'd  of  pow'r  to  move  a  foot  away  % 
Good  David,  who  with  rev'rence,.  much  admir'd 
This  gracious  act  of  providence,  retir'd  ; 
Iiest,  when  the  fit  was  over,  angry  Saul 
Should  in  displeasure,  on  the  prophets  fall.  From 

*  Num.  xxin.  and  xxiv.  f  Numb.  xxiv.  17.  $  Numb- 

axxi,  8.  §  1  Sam.  xxxi.  4.  Jj  1  Sam.  x.  a, 


Book  I.  DAVIDEIS.  27 

From  Najoth,  therefore  (having  first  advis'd 
With  rev'rend  Sam'el,  whom  he  highly  priz'd) 
lie,  undiscern'd,  withdrew,  and  straight  did  bend 
His  course  to  Jonathan,  his  faithful  friend  : 
Into  whose  bosom  he  could  freely  vent 
His  sorrows  and  his  hapless  state  lament. 

What  sin  of  mine  has  rais'd  this  cruel  strife, 
That  I,   said  he,  am  hunted  for  my  life  ? 

The  gentle  prince  (whose  truly  noble  breast 
Was  with  a  generous  compassion  blest) 
His  friend's  complaint,  his  dangers  and  his  fears,. 
With  close,  but  sorrowful,  attention  hears  : 
And  quick  returns  this  short,  but  kind  reply. 
Almighty  God  forbid  !   thou  shalt  not  die  : 
And  strait  endeavours,  whatsoe'er  he  may, 
His  fears,  with  strong  assurance,  to  allay. 
He  thought  his  father  nothing  would  essay, 
Without  consulting  him  about  the  way  ; 
And  thereby  hop'd  it  in  his  pow'r  would  be, 
In  case  of  an  attack  his  friend  to  free. 

But  David,  whom  experience  now  had  taught, 
That,  both  by  force  and  fraud,  his  life  was  so  i 
Judg'd  it  not  safe  his  person  to  expose, 
On  such  uncertain,  ticklish  grounds  as  those  : 
H2  tqU  in,  'Twas  not  unknown, 

firm  a  frien4ship  was 

m  .  him  whaJ 
glit,   perhaps,  designedly  coj 

rom  bin.;  lest  he  should  it  n 
Yet  know,  said  he,  thou  has 

e's  but  a  single  step  'twixt  m  ath% 

[%h  such  an  accent  David  spake  ; 
is  deep  it  could  not  fail  to  make 
.  t  friend.      Hfi 
a  strong  spring,  new  vigour  took  from  the 
lg,  he  said,  from  evil  ni  |  be, 

.     from  dane 

W 


28  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I 

Which  that  thou  may'st,  I'm  ready  here  to  do 
Whate'er  thou  judgest  may  conduce  thereto. 

Then  sitting  down  they  mutual  counsel  take, 
And  this  conclusion  prudently  they  make, 
That  Jonathan,  his  father's  mind  once  more, 
At  his  return  from  Najoth,   should  explore  : 
And  should,  accordingly  let  David  know, 
(f  Saul  his  death  designed  yet  or  no. 
David,   mean  while,  did,  by  agreement,  slay 
At  Ezel-stone  (  a  mark  that  show'd  the  way) 
Near  which,  in  bushy  covert  he  might  lie 
Safe,  from  the  view  of  any  passing  by. 

And  now  before  their  parting  leave  they  took, 
A  sacred  covenant  a  fresh  they  strook, 
A  during  tie,  confirm' d  by  solemn  oath, 
A  bond  inviolable  on  them  both, 
Which  to  their  latest  offspring  should  extend, 
On  either  side,  and  never  have  an  end  : 
By  which  astipulation  they  did  bind 
T        ft  Ives,  to  be  unt6  each  other  kind, 
TJ    .  Jonathan  should  faithfully  report 
To  I  -wid,  how  he  found  affairs  at  court . 
And   hould  his  utmost  pow'r  employ,  to  free 
His  friend  from  danger,  if  lie  any  see. 
On  t'other  hand,  that  David  (when  the  throne 
Of  Israel  should  come  to  be  his  own) 
Should  Jonathan,  and  all  that  from  him  spring, 
Secure  from  danger,  while  himself  is  king, 
I?or  Jonathan    (whose  deeply-peircing  eye 
On  David's  brow  did  marks  of  empire  spy) 
Was  wo.it  with  confidence,  his  friend  to  tell, 
That  1  be  the  king  of  Israel, 

By  Saul  from  Najoth  was  return'd, 

With  smoother  brow.      But  in  his  breast  still  burn'd 
Malignant  hate  :  nor  did  he  yet  despair, 
To  compass  David's  death  at  unaware. 

The  new-moon  now  approach'd  and  therewithal 

ul. 

He 


Book  L  DAVIDEIS.  09 

He  made  no  doubt  but  at  the  sacred  feast, 
He  should  have  zealous  David  for  his  guest. 
For  then  it  pleas'd  him  always  to  admit 
David  at  table  with  himself  to  sit. 
And  then  might  hope,  with  more  success  to  cast 
His  fatal  spear,  than  when  he  threw  it  last. 

The  new-moon  being  come,  and  David's  seat 
Left  empty  when  the  king  sat  down  to  meat, 
Two  days  together  ;   Saul  began  to  doubt 
It  was  design'd :   and  with  an  angry  pout, 
Why  cometh  not,  said  he,  old  Jesse's  son 
To  meat,  as  he,  in  former  times,  hath  done  ? 
Thus  Saul  to  Jonathan  :  who,  having  ey'd 
His  father's  angry  countenance,  reply'd, 
Since  thou  art  pleas'd  the  reason  to  demand 
Of  David's  absence,  please  to  understand, 
That  David  unto  Bethlehem  is  gone, 
On  urgent  business  (to  return  to  anon) 
A  yearly  sacrifice  his  brethren  hold, 
At  this  time  there,   (as  he  himself  me  told) 
To  which  the  family  do  all  repair  ; 
And  David  too  was  summon'd  to  be  there. 
He  therefore  earnestly  of  me  did  crave 
My  leave  to  go,  which  readily  I  gave. 

As  from  the  Prince's  lips  these,  words  did  fall, 
A  fire  of  rage  enkindled  was  in  Saul 
Against  his  son,  which  forth,*  in  choler,  break  : 
And  with  a  furious  accent,  thus  he  spake  : 

"  Thou  son  of  the  perverse  rebellious  woman 
"  (Whose  head  strong  folly  will  be  rul'd  by  no  man) 
"  Too  well  I  know,  that  Jesse's  son  and  thee, 
"  To  thy  confusion,  but  too  well  agree  ; 
"  Yet  thou,  till  he's  securely  in  his  grave, 
"  No  kingdom,  no  establishment  can  have.    » 
"  Send  therefore,  fetch  (e'er  he  further  fly) 
"  Make  no  delay,  for  he  shall  surely  die." 

se  words  in  such  a  thundering  tone  he  spake, 
-m'd  to  make  the  hall  he  sat  in  shake. 

Griev'd 


30  DAVIDEIS.  Book  L 

Griev'd  way  the  princely  Jonathan,  to  hear 
A  sentence  so  unjust,  and  so  severe. 
Small  hopes  he  had  ;  yet  could  not  choose  but  try 
His  father's  stormy  mind  to  pacify. 
And  to  that  purpose,  in  an  humble  tone, 
Ask'd,  why  shall  David  die  ?  what  hath  he  done  ? 

As  supplying  oil,  on  flaming  fire  cast, 
Instead  of  quenching,  doth  augment  the  blast : 
So  Jonathan's  soft  words  enkindled  more 
His  wrathful  father,  than  he  was  before 
He-  nothing  said  :  too  full  he  was  to  speak, 
His  stifling  choler  could  not  silence  break  : 
'But  snatching  up,  with  furious  haste  his  spear, 
{Which  at  his  hand,  designedly  stood  near) 
With  such  a  force,  at  Jonathan  he  threw, 
As  mjre  than  words,  his  bloody  mind  did  shew, 

Altho'  the  prince  the  stroke  did  nimbly  shuii, 
Yet  »va.;  he  greatly  mov'd,  at  what  was  done. 
Such  rrc:;s  indignity  would  stir  a  man 
Of  meaner  spirits  than  was  Jonathan  ; 
'Consid'ring  that  it  was  a  public  shame  : 
And  m  re,   because  it  from  a  father  came. 
The  harder  too  it  was  for  him  to  bear, 
Who  was  his  father's  and  the  kingdom's  heir  : 
Himself  long  since  adult  ;  and,   which  was  more, 
Had  been  his  father's  vice'roy  just  before. 
All  which  together  working  in  his  breast, 
Made  this  abuse  uneasy  to  digest. 

From  table  therefore  he,  in  heat  arose  ; 
And,  breathing  forth  displeasure,  out  he  goes. 

to  his  apartment  cloth  retire, 
To  give  free  vent  to  this  new  kindled  fire  ; 
Where  falling  on  his  couch,  he  doth  bemoan 
Much  more  his  friend's  condition  than  his  c 
fting  what  conccrn'd  his  late  disgrace, 
He  doubted  not,  consid'ring  men  would  place 
All  to  his  father's  passion,  and  that  he 
Himself,  his  passion  o'er,  would  troubled  be. 


Book  I.  DAVIDEIS.  31 

But  ah  !   his  friend,  his  friend  !   poor  David's  case 

Did  more  affect  him,  than  his  own  disgrace. 

No  longer  now  doth  any  thought  remain 

In  Jonathan  that  David's  fears  were  vain. 

No  clearer  evidence  he  now  doth  need, 

That  David's  death  was  by  the  king  decreed. 

This  a£t  of  violence  for  David's  sake, 

Both  clear'd  his  doubt,  and  made  his  heart  to  ake. 

The  tedious  night  in  restless  tossings  spent, 
Betwixt  uneasy  grief  and  discontent ; 
As  soon  as  e'er  Aurora  did  disclose 
The  springing  day,  the  faithful  prince  arose  : 
Both  honour  and  affection  did  him  spur ; 
And  e'er  the  lark  was  stirring,  made  him  stir. 
Honour  reminds  him,  that  his  word  he  gave 
To  David  :  love  said,  thou  must  David  save. 
Which  that  he  might,  he  to  the  fields  doth  go, 
( His  page  his  quiver  bearing,  and  his  bow  ; 
Not  knowing  why  :)   No  otherwise  he  went, 
Than  if,  to  recreate  himself  he  meant. 

When  near  the  place,  where  Jesse's  son  did  wait 
The  doubtful  issue  of  his  doleful  fate, 
His  curvid  bow,  with  sinew'd  arm,  he  drew  ; 
And  over  David's  head  the  arrows  flew  : 
One  flying  shaft  a" private  token  bore, 
Agreed  upon  between  themselves  before  ; 
By  which  poor  David  understood  too  well, 
What  Jonathan  unwilling  was  to  tell. 

The  thoughtless  page  who  nothing  did  suspects 
With  nimble  speed  the  arrows  did  collect  ; 
And  to  his  master  bring,  who  did  deliver 
Unto  the  lad  his  unstrung  bow  and  quiver 
To  carry  home.      Himself  remain'd  behind, 
As  if  to  walk  alone  he  was  inclin'd. 

The  youth  now  gone,  and  Jonathan  alone, 
Straight  David  issued  forth,  by  Ezel-stone  ; 
And,  falling  to  the  ground  ;  with  triple  bend 
odv,  did  salute  his  noble  friend. 

D  Then 


52  DAVIDEIS.  Book  I. 

Then  casting  amis  about  each  other's  neck, 
Their  pearly  tears  each  other's  breast  bedeck. 
They  wept  and  kiss'd,  they  kiss'd  and  wept  again, 
Nor  could  they  soon  those  chrystal  floods  restrain  ; 
Each  kiss  a  fresh  supply  of  tears  did  breed 
In  both  their  eyes,  till  David  did  exceed. 
At  length  their  covenant  renew'd,  they  part, 
Each  kindly  bearing  back  the  others  heart. 
They  part :  and  each  doth  his  own  path  pursue, 
With  eyes  reflex  while  either  was  in  view. 


THE    EKD    OF    THE    FIRST    BOOR, 


DAVIDEIS, 


DAVIDEIS, 

BOOK  II. 
CHAPTER    I. 


NOW  travels  David  with  a  thoughtful  mind, 
Uncertain  where  a  safe  retreat  to  find : 
For  though,  while  prosp'rous  his  affairs  did  stand, 
He  friends  and  servants,  many  could  command ; 
Yet  now,  that  frowns  had  wrinkled  fortunes  face, 
He  knew  not  where  to  find  a  resting  place. 

In  this  perplexed  state,  his  pious  mind 
Was,  to  consult  the  oracle,  inclin'd  ; 
The  inambiguous  oracle  from  whence 
Jehovah  secret  counsels  did  dispence  : 
And  undeceiving  answers  always  gave 
To  such  as,  with  an  honest  mind,  did  crave. 
To  Nob  his  weary  steps  he  therefore  bends, 
(Nob  was  a  city  of  the  priests,  his  friends) 
And  to  Ahimelech  he  doth  repair, 
Who  then  possess'd  the  pontifical  chair. 

The  rev'rend  pontiff,  who  was  unadvis'd 
Of  David's  troubles,   now  was  much  surprised 
To  see  him  come  alone  ;  who,  not  long  since, 
Was  royally  attended,  like  a  prince. 
He  startled  at  the  sight  ;  nor  could  forbear 
To  ask,  why  unattended  he  came  there  ? 

It  happen'd,  that  a  certain  Edomite, 
Who  to  the  Hebrews  was  a  proselyte, 
(One  who  had  charge  and  over  sight  of  all 
The  herds,  and  herd-men  that  belong'd  to  Sad) 

W*s 


34  DAVIDEIS.  Book  II. 

Was  with  the  priest  ;  but  what  his  business  there, 

Doth  r.ot  to  us  in  sacred  writ  appear  ; 

'Tis  only  left,  in  brief,  upon  record, 

That  he  was  there  detain'd  before  the  Lord. 

Him  standing  in  a  corner,  David  spy'd, 

Before  he  to  Ahimelech  reply'd  ; 

And,  knowing  well  the  man,  he  was  a  fraid 

His  friend,  the  priest,  would  be  by  him  betray'd, 

If,  after  he  the  king's  displeasure  knew, 

He  any  kindness  unto  him  should  shew. 

Lest  therefore  into  danger  he  should  bring 

His  friend,  or  out  of  favour  with  the  king  j 

He  held  it  best  his  troubles  to  conceal, 

And  not  his  adverse  fortune  to  reveal  ; 

That,  if  this  pick-thank  should  relate  to  Saul 

Ought  that  against  the  priest  should  stir  his  gall  : 

The  priest  the  accusation  might  surmount, 

And  place  his  kindness  to  the  king's  account, 

He  therefore  gave  the  priest  to  understand, 
His  coming  thus,  was  by  the  king's  command  ; 
Who,  he  pretended,  had  dispatch'd  him  so, 
That  rone  his  secret  enterprize  might  know  : 

1  that  his  servants,  be  before  did  send 
To  such  a  place,  his  doming  to  attend. 
Adding,  that  in  such  haste  he  came  away 
(The  king's  cc  Emitting  no  delay) 

That  of  provision  he  had  aevef  thought ; 
Nor  had  his  sword,  or  weapons  with  him  brought. 

The  guiltless  priest,  with  unsuspecting  ear, 
This  feigned  story,  for  a  truth  did  hear. 
And,  not  with  victuals  only  him  supplyM, 
But  arm'd  him  with  Goliah's  sword  beside  ; 
Which,  offer'd  to  the  Lord,  when  he  was  slain, 
Did  with  the  priest  unto  that  time  remain  ; 
Nay  wanti'.:;-;  other,  he  the  shew-bread  gave, 
Appointed  for  the  priests  alone  to  have. 

loing  which,  he  errs  that  thinks  he  err'd, 
acrifice  preferr'd. 


Book  II.  DAVIDIES.  35 

Yet  e'er  he  gave  the  consecreated  bread, 
He  ask'd,  if  they,  who  should  therewith  be  fed, 
Were  clean.     Who  will  of  holy  things  partake, 
Must  whatsoever  makes  unclean  forsake. 

Thus  furnish'd  David  did  from  Nob  depart, 
And  turn'd  his  face  to  Gath,  with  heavy  heart  > 
Not  knowing  else,  where  he  his  head  might  hide  : 
Nor  could  he  long  in  safety  there  abide. 
.  The  servants  of  King  Achish  quickly  knew 
That  he  was  David,  who  Goliah  slew. 
And  straight  recounted  (to  incense  their  king) 
What  e'rst  the  Hebrew  dames  of  him  did  sing, 
When,  in  their  dancing  and  triumphant  strain, 
They  chanted,  he  had  his  ten  thousands  slain. 
This  David  heard  ;  but  would  not  seem  to  hear, 
Concealing  with  his  utmost  care  his  fear ; 
Till,  by  a  stratagem,  he  found  a  way 
Himself  from  Gath  in  safety  to  convey. 

When  past  the  bounds  of  the  Philistine's  land, 
On  Isr'el's  coast  again  ;  he's  at  a  stand 
Which  way  to  take,  or  whether  to  direct 
His  wand'ring  feet ;  where  he  might,  unsuspect, 
Absconded  lie,  until  those  clouds  were  past, 
With  which  his  hemisphere  was  overcast. 
In  all  his  tract,  unknowing  of  a  friend 
Whom  he  could  trust,  and  who  could  him  defend. 
And  Saul,  if  once  discover'd,  would,  he  knew, 
Through  ail  the  tribes  of  Israel  him  pursue. 

But  little  time  could  he  deliberate, 
What  course  to  take  so  pressing  was  his  fate  ; 
Yet,  in  those  moments,  many  a  place  was  brought 
Under  the  judgment  of  his  winged  thought. 

Of  all  the  refuges  his  wary  mind 
Could,  in  such  haste,  and  on  a  sudden  find, 
None  pleas'd  him  better,  than  a  certain  cave, 
To  which  its  name  the  town  Adullum  gave. 
A  spacious  cave  it  was,  yet  known  to  few  : 
Remote  from  Gibeah,  and  from  public  view. 

D  2  Ard. 


56  DAVIDEIS.  Book  It 

And  (which  did  recommend  it  to  his  state) 
'Twas  in  the  tribe  of  Judah  situate  ; 
Judah,  the  tribe  from  which  he  sprang,  and  whence 
He  had  most  reason  to  expect  defence. 
This  solitary  cave,  he  thought,  was  best : 
Where,  for  a  while,  he  hop'd  to  find  some  rest. 
The  towns  and  cities  therefore  he  forsook, 
And  to  Adullum's  cave  himself  betook. 
Where  long  he  had  not  been,  before  he  spiy'd 
A  friend  psss  by,  whose  faith  he  oft  had  try'd  : 
By  whom,   unto  his  brethren,  and  his  friends, 
He  notice  of  his  safe  arrival  sends. 

With  joy,  like  that  which  Jacob  did  revive, 
When  news  was  brought  that  Joseph  was  alive, 
Did  good  old  Jesse  the  good  tidings  hear 
That  David  was  in  safety,  and  so  near  : 
And  quickly  he,  his  wife,   and  ev'ry  son, 
With  all  their  families,  to  David  run, 
Him  to  embrace,  and  cheer  him  in  his  straight  : 
Henceforth  resolv'd  to  share  a  common  fate. 

This  fame  expanded  with  a  loud  report  ; 
And  strangers  too,  in  multitudes,  resort. 
Whoe'er  was  in  distress^  or  discontent ; 
And  all  that  were  in  debt,  unto  him  went. 
A  numerous  company  to  him  repair, 
With  minds  as  desp'rate  as  their  fortunes  w. 
And  these,  with  one  consent,  implore  that  he 
A  captain  o'er  them  will  vouchsafe  to  be. 
He  to  their  importunity  doth  yield, 
And  taking  muster  of  them  in  the  field  ; 
Who  t'other  day,  no  living  soul  could  find, 
With  whom  to  trust  his  person  or  his  mind  : 
Now  rinds  himself  environ'd  with  a  throng 
Of  mettled  blades,  about  four  hundred  strong. 

When  first  that  lonely  cave  was  in  his  eye, 
He  purpos'd  only  there  obscur'd  to  lie, 
Till  providence  should  his  affairs  dispose, 
And  reconcile  him  to  his  causeless  foes. 


Book  I.  DAVIDEIS.  *? 

But  this  access  of  forces  did  him  force 

To  alter  now  his  counsels,  and  his  course. 

He  well  consider'd,  that  it  was  in  vain 

To  hope  that  he  could  long  conceal'd  remain. 

That  of  his  confluence  of  men,  report 

Would  soon  be  made  to  Saul's  enquiring  court. 

And  that  with  windy  trumpet,   flying  fame 

The  case  would  quickly  thro'  the  tribes  proclaim  ; 

That  Saul,  appris'd,  would  not  a  moment  stay, 

But  fly  upon  h.m  like  a  bird  of  prey. 

He  therefore  all  things  needful  doth,  with  care,, 

In  readiness  for  his  defence  prepare. 

His  soldiers  he  doth  discipline,   and  show 

Both  how  to  use  the  sword,  and  draw  the  bow* 

His  aged  parents  unto  Moab's  king 

(Safe  conducl  first  obtained)  he  cloth  bring  ; 

On  promise,  that  they  there  should  safe  abide 

Till  God  should  please  the  quarrel  to  decide  : 

For  Moab's  king  and  Saul  were  then  at  war  ; 

Which  made  him  David  countenance  so  far. 

Tilings  thus  disposed,  he  from  the  hold  did  go 
(God,  by  his  prophet  Gad,  directing  so) 
And  march'd  to  Hareth  forest,  where  he  might, 
If  fore 'd  thereto,  with  more  advantage  right. 

CHAP.  II. 


NOW  wrap  thyself,  my  muse,  in  sable  weed, 
While  thou  relates  a  most  inhuman  deed 
As  e'er  was  done.     Lay  by  thy  laurels  now, 
And  wreath  thy  temples  with  a  Cypress  bough. 
Thou,  who,  of  all  the  nine,  ne'er  known  to  smile, 
Art  held  inventress  of  the  tragick  stile, 
Speak  through  my  quill,  and  on  a  doleful  string, 
In  mornful  notes,  a  tragick  story  sing. 

It  was  not  long,  e'er  Saul's  attentive  ear, 
Of  David,  and  his  new  rais'd  men,  did  her.r. 

And 


sa  DAViDEIS.  Book  II. 

And  calling-  to  remembrance,  that  his  son 
(Whose  courage  was  inferior  to  none) 
On  the  affront  was  put  upon  him  last 
(When  he,  at  meat,  his  Jav'lin  at  him  cast) 
Was,  in  displeasure,  from  the  court  retir'd  : 
His  fear  suggested  that  they  both  conspir'd 
Against  him,  and  confederated  were, 
His  crown  and  scepter  'twixt  themselves  to  share ; 
Which,  well  he  knew,  could  not  be  done,  but  he 
Must,  if  not  slain,  at  least  dethroned  be. 
The  thought  of  which,  as  it  did  horror  breed 
In  him,  whose  fear  did  from  his  guilt  proceed, 
So  did  it  blow  his  anger  to  a  rage, 
Beyond  the  force  of  reason  to  asswage. 

In  this  turmoil,  he  chanc'd  abroad  to  be, 
Beneath  the  umbrage  of  a  spreading  tree  ; 
Under  whose  shady  boughs,  in  chair  of  state, 
He  sat,  himself  to  cool  and  recreate. 
About  him  stood  his  servants,  in  a  ring. 
Waiting  the  pleasure  of  their  angry  king. 

As  chafing  thus  he  sat,,  'twixt  wrath  and  feaiy 


:>ear : 


Vibrating  in  his  palsied  hands  his  sr 
His  terror-striking  eye  he  roll'd  about ; 
And,  in  a  while,  his  choler  thus  brake  out : 

"   Hear  now,  ye  Benjamites,  v%  ill  Jesse's  son, 
"  When  he  the  crown  of  Israel  hath  won, 
"  To  ev'ry  one  of  you  (who  succour  yields 
"   Unto  him  now )  rich  vineyards  give  and  fields  ? 
"  Will  he  you  ah,  of  thousands,  captains  make  ? 
"  That  ye  so  ready  are  his  part  to  take  ; 
"  That  all  of  you  against  me  have  conspir'd  : 
"  And  not  a  man,  since  Jonathan  retir'd, 
"   Hath  shew'd  me  that  my  son  a  league  hath  made 
"  With  Jesse's  son  ;  and  that  I  am  betray'd  ? 
4i  Are  you  so  well  assured  of  David's  grace, 
"  That  he  will  each  of  you  promote  to  place 
il  Of  trust  and  honour,  that  amo:,g  you  none 
"  In  pity  hath  inform'd  me,  *hat  mv  son 

«  Hath 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  39 

"  Hath  stirred  up  my  servant  war  to  make  ; 
"  And  both  my  crown  and  life  away  to  take  ?" 

This  unexpected  speech,  the  courtiers  strook, 
AmazM  they  stand,  and  on  each  other  look.* 
Each  man  among  them  knew  himself  to  be 
From  treasonable  combination  free. 
For  though  their  love  to  David  did  remain, 
Yet  did  they  still  their  loyalty  retain. 
But  when  the  king's  stern  visage  they  beheld, 
His  pouting  lips,  his  cheeks  with  anger  swell'd, 
His  stormy  brow,  his  fiery  sparkling  eye  ; 
His  foaming  mouth,  with  fury  drawn  awry  ; 
His  fuming  breath,  puff 'd  like  a  smoaking  brand  ; 
A  trembling  motion  in  his  restless  hand  : 
Tho'  free  from  guilt,  they  were  not  free  from  fear ; 
Knowing  how  apt  he  was  to  cast  the  spear. 

While  thus  the  courtiers  in  a  silent  maz,e, 
Upon  the  king,  and  one  another  gaze  ; 
Forth  Doeg  ftepp'd,  sprung  from  the  Edomites, 
Of  herdsmen  chief,  and  chief  of  Parasites  : 
The  same  who,  t'other  day,  with  leering  eye, 
Did  David  in  the  tabernacle  spy. 
'He  now,  to  curry  favour  with  his  lord, 
Told  how  the  priest  and  David  did  ace 
How  ho  himself  at  Nob  had  lately  been, 
And  David  with  Ahimelech  had  seen. 
How  kind  the  priest  ;  how  ready  to  enquire 
Of  God,  in  David's  case,  at  his  desire. 
Adding  the  priest  with  food  had  David  stor'd, 
And  arm'd  him  also  with  Cohan  sword. 
In  short,  he  told  what'er  Ahitab's  son 
Had  unto  David  said,  or  for  him  done. 
And  in  such  terms  the  matter  did  relate. 
As  were  most  apt  the  king  to  irritate. 

ig  what  would  have  freed  the  priest  from  blame, 
it  David  went,  as  in  the  royal  nam.1. 

•  king  in  pain,  thro'  rage  too  closely  peat. 
In  his  swollen  breast, ? for  want  of 


40  DAVIDEIS.  Book  If. 

Was  glad  this  charge  against  the  priests  to  hear 
Resolving  to  discharge  his  fury  there. 

Forthwith  a  pursuivant  was  sent  to  bring 
The  priests  from  Nob,  before  the  wrathful  king, 
The  priests  the  royal  summons  to  obey, 
Immediately  advanc'd  upon  the  way  ; 
And  in  a  body,  with  a  good  intent, 
Themselves,  at  Gibeah,  to  the  king  present. 

No  sooner  did  the  king  the  priests  espy, 
But  with  a  frowning  brow,  and  flaming  eye 
Upon  them  fix'd  :  He  to  the  pontiff  break 
His  mind,  in  accents  which  his  fury  spake, 

"  Hear  now,  said  he,  Ahitub's  son  (whose  word 
To  him  again,  was,  here  am  I,  my  lord) 
"  Why  hast  thou  with  a  treasonable  mind, 
"  Against  thy  lord,  with  Jesse's  son  combin'd  ? 
H  Thy  treason's  plain,  for  first  ye  did  conspire 
**  Against  my  life  ;  then  of  the  Lord  enquire  : 
"  That  thereby  he,  to  rise  against  me,  might 
4i  Embolden'd  be,  his  sov'reign  lord  to  smite. 
**  Thou  with  previsions  too  didst  him  supply, 
**  That  he,  as  now  he  doth,  in  wait  might  lie. 
*'  Nay,  thou  into  his  hands  a  sword  did  put, 
"  That  he  my  head  might  from  my  shoulders  cut." 

So  spake  the  king   (and  more,  perhaps,  had  spoke, 
But  that  his  choler  did  him  almost  choke) 
To  whom  Ahimelech,  with  due  respe£t, 
Return'd  an  answer,  much  to  this  effect. 

"  May't  please  the  king,  what  service  I  have  done 
"   For  David,  was  as  David  was  thy  son  ; 
"  Thy  son-in-law,   who  always  freely  went 
w  On  whatsoever  service  by  thee  sent. 
"  One  whom  the  king  admitted  to  his  table  ; 
"  And  in  thy  house  wai>  always  honourable. 
"  Nor  thought  I  any  one  more  true  to  thee, 
"  Amongst  thy  great  retinue,  than  was  he. 
"  So  may  he  prove  !    if  otherwise  he  be, 
u  His  bcino-  so  was  never  knpwn  to  me. 

*■  «  'Twas 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  41 

"  'Twas  in  thy  bus'ness,  that  he  said  he  came, 

"  Nor  had  I  him  receiv'd  ;  but  in  thy  name. 

"  Did  I  then  first  to  seek  the  Lord  begin 

xt  For  him,  that  this  should  now  be  made  my  sin  1 

"  Have  I  not  oft  before  for  him  enquir'd  ? 

"  Yet  ne'er  before  was  charg'd  to  have  conspir'd. 

"  From  me  far  be  it,  e'er  to  entertain, 

"  A  thought  that  may  my  loyalty  distain. 

4i  And  from  the  king,  far  be  it  too  I  pray, 

"  Unto  his  servant's  charge  this  thing  to  lay. 

"  Or  to  my  father's  house  ;  for  we  are  clear ; 

"  And  can  our  innocency  make  appear. 

"  God  is  my  witness,  what  I  speak  is  true : 

"  Thy  servant  of  this  matter  nothing  knew." 

So  spake  the  reverend  Ahimelech, 
And  with  his  last  words  bow'd  his  aged  neck. 
The  other  priests,  to  shew  they  did  agree 
To  what  he  said  bow'd  ev'ry  man  his  knee. 

So  just  the  priest's  defence  was,  and  so  clear, 
Unto  the  standers  by,  did  he  appear, 
That  all  the  courtiers  ready  were  to  shout 
For  joy  :  when  on  a  sudden  Saul  broke  out, 
And,  with  a  vehemence  of  voice  did  cry, 
Thou,  thou  Ahimelech,  shalt  surely  die, 
And  all  thy  father's  house.      O  cruel  word  ! 
More  cruel  mind  !   to  be  by  all  abhorr'd. 
Abhorr'd  it  was  :  each  courtier  hung  his  head  ; 
And  ev'ry  face  grew  pale  which  had  been  red. 
The  dismal  sentence  did  with  horror  strike 
The  hearers  ;  deep  fetch'd  sighs  shew'd  their  dislike 
A  trembling  murmur  at  one  side  began, 
And  spreading,  through  the  whole  assembly  ran  : 
Which  ended  in  an  universal  groan  ; 
Enough  to  melt  all  hearts,  but  those  of  stone. 


CHAP. 


*2  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IL 


CHAP.  III. 

HOW  miserable  is  the  state  of  those, 
Whose  frame  of  government  doth  them  expose 
To  arbitrary  pow'r  !   where  laws  unknown  ! 
Nor  any  man  can  call  his  life  his  own  ! 
Where  innocency  is  of  little  force  ! 
Because  impartial  justice  hath  no  course. 
Where  one  man's  rage  keeps  all  the  rest  in  awe  ; 
Whose  will  and  pleasure  are  his  only  law  ! 

O  how  much  better  is  their  case,  who  live 
Under  a  constitution  which  doth  give 
To  ev'ry  man,  in  government  a  share  : 
And  binds  the  whole  to  have  of  each  a  care. 
Where  even-handed  justice  freely  flows  : 
And  each  the  law,  he  must  be  try'd  by,  knows» 
Where  none  by  pow'r  can  be  oppress'd,  because 
Both  prince  and  people  subject,  are  to  laws. 
None  there  an  arbitrary  sentence  fears  ; 
Since  none  can  be  condemn'd  but  by  his  peers  : 
Whose  common  int'rest  doth  them  wary  make, 
How  they  their  fellow's  life  away  do  take. 
For  the  same  sentence,  wherewith  they  condemn 
Another,  may  be  shortly  turn'd  on  them. 
These  too  th'  accused  party  may  reject, 
If  their  indifFerency  he  suspect  : 
And,  ne'er  so  mean,  may  for  his  birth-right  stand 
Fair  trial,  and  full  hearing  may  demand. 

Prize  your  good  fortune,  ye,  whose  lot  is  fell 
Under  so  good  a  government  to  dwell. 
Where  no  dispensing  pow'r  can  make  a  breach, 
Upon  your  freedoms  ;  nor  your  persons  reach. 
But  all  ye  have,  life,  liberty,  estate, 
Is  safe  by  law,  which  none  can  abrogate 
Without  your  own  consents.      Be  therefore  wise  ; 
And  learn  so  great  a  benefit  to  prize. 

Look 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  m 

Look  to't  :  be  watchful,  none  by  any  wile, 
You  of  so  rich  a  jewel  e'er  beguile. 

Ah  !   had  the  government  of  Saul  been  such, 
Ke  had  not  dar'd  the  priests  of  Nob  to  touch, 
Who  never  were,  by  legal  proof  convicted 
Of  that,  for  which  he  on  them  death  inflicted  : 
Who  had  themselves  from  all  suspicion  clear' d  ; 
And  blameless  unto  all,  but  him  appear' d. 

But  he,  whose  lawless  will  for  law  was  put, 
Resolving  off  those  innocents  to  cut  ; 
Commands  his  guards  to  turn,  without  delay. 
Upon  the  priests  of  God,  and  them  to  slay. 
Alledging   (to  encourage  them  thereto) 
That  they  with  trait'rous  David  had  to  do  : 
And  that  they  David's  flight,  altho'  they  knew  it, 
Concealed  had  from  hirn,  and  did  not  shew  it. 

If  on  the  court  so  great  a  terror  came, 
When  he,  before,  the  sentence  did  but  name, 
How  great  a  consternation  may't  be  thought, 
This  warrant  for  their  execution  brought. 
The  guards,  who  never  durst,  till  now  dispute 
Their  lord's  command,  now  stand  amaz'd  and  mute. 
The  thought  of  such  an  impious  act  them  strook 
With  trembling,  and  their  palsied  fingers  shook, 
And  let  their  weapons  fall :  nor  was  their  one 
Among  them  all   (tho'  threaten'd  from  the  throne 
With  stormy  frowns)  that  would  extend  an  arm 
Against  the  priests  of  God,  to  do  them  harm. 

None  all  this  while,  so  unconcern'd  did  stand, 
As  did  the  priests  themselves  :  the  king's  command 
To  have  them  slain  (which  made  the  rest  to  quake)        , 
No  alteration  in  their  looks  did  make  : 
No  paleness,  no  dejection,  did  appear  ; 
Which  shew'd  their  guiltless  souls  were  free  from  fear. 
A  steady  resolution  had  possest 

With  brave  contempt  of  death,  their  peaceful  breast. 
They  .in  themselves,  did  feel  the  best  defence, 
Against  a  tyrant's  threat'nings,  innocence. 

E  This 


44  DAVIDEIS.  Book  If. 

This  kept  their  spirits  in  an  even  mean  ; 
With  countenance  compos'd,  and  minds  serene. 
Thus  standing,  they  the  Lord  their  God  invoke  ; 
Prepared  to  receive  the  fatal  stroke. 

The  more  unterrify'd  the  king  beheld 
The  priests,  the  more  his  breast  with  anger  swell'd. 
He  thought  that  they  his  power  did  contemn  : 
And,  in  himself,  he  vow'd  revenge  on  them. 
He  chaf 'd  extremely  too  to  think  that  he 
Should,  by  his  guards,  no  more  regarded  be. 
Then  fury  boiling  in  him,  to  its  height, 
He  singles  out  the  brutish  Edomite, 
Th'  informer,  Doeg,  bidding  him  to  fall, 
Upon  the  sacred  priests,  and  slay  them  all. 

Not  backwarder,  the  Yeomen  of  the  guard 
Themselves  had  shew'd  (Men  mostly  rough  and  hard) 
Than  forward  he,   Saul's  pleasure  to  fulfil, 
And  strait  a  sea  of  righteous  blood  to  spill. 
Forth  with  himself  he  to  the  work  addrest, 
And  in  Ahimelech's  unspotted  breast 
His  thirsty  sword  did  sheathe.     The  aged  sire 
Did  not  resist  ;  did  not  a  foot  retire  : 
But,  with  undaunted  resolution,  stood 
The  stroke  ;   'till  in  a  stream  of  purple  blood, 
His  life  expiring,  to  the  ground  he  press'd  : 
A  glorious  pattern  leaving  to  the  rest. 
They,  without  terror,  did  his  death  behold  : 
d,  by  his  brave  example,  grew  more  bold. 

Ah  !   had  not  cursed  Doeg   (the  disgrace 
Of  all  mankind,  as  well  as  Edom's  race) 
Bs    r,  in  his  nature,  savager,  than  were 
The  fiercest  beasts  committed  to  his  care  : 
The  awful  aspect  of  Ahimclech 
Had  bee.:  enough,  the  ruffian's  mind  to  check  : 
Whose  goodly  personage,  and  manly  face, 
An  unafie&ed  gravity  did  grace. 
His  milk-wjute  beard,  unto  his  spotless  breast, 
itself  extending,  thereupon  did  rest. 

Aftd 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  45 

And,  in  his  sacerdotal  robes  attir'd, 
Was  worthily  botli  loved  and  admir'd. 

But  graceless  Doeg,  of  a  graceless  kind, 
Bred  among  beasts,  to  brutishness  inclin'd  ; 
By  shedding  blood,  more  bloody-minded  grew, 
And  on  the  other  priests,  with  fury  flew. 
They  undistnay'd,  themselves  prepare  to  die  ; 
Not  one  resists,  not  one  attempts  to  fly  : 
But  having  God,  whose  priests  they  were,  implor'd  ; 
They  yield  their  spotless  breasts  to  Doeg'e  sword. 
He  in  their  blood  did  bathe  his  reeking  blade  ; 
And,  on  the  soiled  earth,  them  breathless  laid. 
The  bloody  wretch  their  bodies  hew'd  and  tore, 
And  warm  he  left  them  welt'ring  in  their  gore  ; 
All  man  by  man:   nor  did  he  leave  alive, 
One  ephod-wearer  out  of  eighty-fife. 

Thus  fell  the  priests  of  vjr-»:i.     Thus  bleeding  lay 
The  tribe  of  Levi  ;   slaughter'd  in  a  day  ; 
Butcher'd  by  barb'rous  hands,  without  all  cause  ; 
Against  religion,  reason,  right  and  laws. 
This  Doeg  acled ;  but  'twas  Saul  that  bid. 
This  Saul  commanded  ;  and  this  Doeg  did. 

The  harden'd  king,  thus  having  fed  his  eyes, 
With  this,  to  him  delightful,  sacrifice  : 
To  cany  on  his  vengenance  to  the  height, 
The  city  Nob  too  with  the  sword  did  smite, 
No  living  soul  therein  his  fury  left, 
But,  whatsoever  breath'd,  of  life  bereft. 
Men,  women,  children,  oxen,  asses,  sheep, 
His  slaught'ring  sword,  at  once  away  did  sweep. 
O  horrid  a&  !    on  his  part  most  unjust  ; 
As  done  to  answer  a  revengeful  lust,' 
But  just  from  God  ;  who,  his  denounced  *  will 
Against  old  Eli's  house,  did  thus  fulfil. 


CHAP. 
*  I  Sam.  ii.  23. 


DAVIDEIS.  Book  It 


CHAP.  IV. 

WHILE  thus  King  Saul  his  forces  did  employ, 
His  w  '"  deserving  subjects  to  destroy  ; 
.11  uninform'd  thereof,  was  bent 
The  sacking  of  rich  Keilah  to  prevent. 

To  his  retreat  th'  unwelcome  news  was  brought, 
That  the  Philistines  against  Keilah  fought, 
And  robb'd  the  threshing-floors.      His  gen'rous  mind 
To  raise  the  siege,  and  save  the  town  inclin'd. 
He  therefore  quickly  of  the  Lord  enquires  : 
The  sacred  answer  quicken'd  his  desires. 
Most  clear  the  answer  was :  Yet  he  was  fain, 
His  men  misdoubting,  to  enquire  again. 
For  they  who  were  in  daily  fear  that  Saul, 
With  all  his  forces,  would  upcn  them  fall ; 
Were  loth,  for  others  sakes,  their  strength  to  bre^k, 
And  make  themselves,  for  their  defence  more  weak. 
But  when  the  second  time  enquir'd,  the  Lord 
A  more  confirming  answer  did  afford  ; 

promise  that,  observing  his  command, 
He'd  give  the  Philistines  into  their  hand. 

/  drew  up  man  by  man  ; 
Their  valiant  leader  marching  in  the.*     . 

To  Keilah  come,  unlooked  for  by  all, 
He  on  the  Philistines  did  briskly  fall  ; 
And  with  a  dreadful  slaughter  all  did  smite, 
Who  fought  not  safety  in  a  timely  flight; 
The  siege  thus  rais'd,  and  Keilah's  ccrasU  now  cleared 
From  those  assailants  she  so  justly  ftar'd. 
Into  the  town  victorious  David  entered 
(For  whose  deliv'rance  he  his  life  had  ventiu'd) 
Leading  a  booty,  which  his  sword  did  win 
From  the  defeated  host  of  Philistine. 
The  gladded  Keiiites  all  their  wits  emp' 
To  manifest  their  gratitude  and  joy : 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  47 

And  well  they  might,  with  civic  garland  crown 
His  temples  who  from  spoil  had  sav'd  their  town. 

Encourag'd  greatly  with  this  good  success 
Was  David,  and  his  followers  no  less. 
They  joy  together.      But  how  mere  a  toy 
How  momentary  is  all  human  joy  I 
This  glimm'ring  glance  of  sun  shine  soon  was  past. 
And  their  horizon  blacker  clouds  o'ercast. 

The  triumph  yet  was  hardly  well  begun, 
When  young  Abiather,  Ahim'lech's  son, 
(Who  from  the  sword,  by  providence,  was  freed 
To  propagate  a  sacerdotal  seed) 
Came  panting  in  ;  with  sweat  besmear'd  and  dust.. 
And  almoss  breathless  through  the  concourse  thrust, 

To  David  come,  with  many  a  sigh  and  sob 
He  tells  the  horrid  tragedy  of  Nob  : 
How  the  high  priest,  with  all  his  priestly  train, 
And  every  living  soul  at  Nob  was  slain. 
Could  you  have  seen,  with  what  a  mournful  look, 
Poor  David  these  amazing  tidings  took  ; 
Ye  would  have  doubted,  whether  in  his  face 
Astonishment  or  grief  had  greater  place. 
So  Jeptha  look'd,  when,  to  his  great  surprize, 
His  daughter  met  him  for  a  sacrifice. 
The  suddenness  and  strangeness  of  the  deed, 
Horror  in  David,  and  amazement  breed. 
His  grief  was  equal  ;  for  he  knew  full  well 
This  evil,  for  his  sake,  the  priests  befel. 
The  thought,  with  anguish,  pierc'd  his  gen'raus 
More  deeply,  than  can  be  by  words  exprest, 
The  infants,  with  their  mothers  he  lament 3  ; 
And  that  he  e'er  saw  Nob,  too  late  repents. 
The  priests'  unrighteous  murder  doth  bemoan 
No  less  than  if  the  case  had  been  his  own. 
He  all  their  deaths  bewail ;  but  most  his  grief 
Abounds  for  his  Ahimelech,  their  chief : 
Unto  whose  memory  how  much  he  ow'd, 
Could  not,  he  thought,  more  signally  be  show'd 

En  -rv=.  „ 


IS  DAVIDEIS.  Book  II. 

Than  by  accumulating  favours  on 
AS  ithar,  his  sole  surviving  son. 
With  kind  embraces  therefore  he  doth  cheer 
The  down-cast  youth,  and  bids  him  cast  off  fear  ; 
Assuring  him,  that  since  their  common  fate 
Made  them  joint  ot  lefts  of  Saul's  causeless  hate  ; 
He  special  care  would  cf  his  safety  take, 
Both  for  his  own  and  for  his  father's  sake, 
Whose  well  deservings  of  him,  he  should  find, 
Were  deeply  graven  in  a  grateful  mind. 
To  David  now  intelligence  was  sent, 
By  some  well-wisher,  that  king  Saul  was  beat 
To  shut  him  an  in  Keilah  ;   and  to  take 
Him  pris'ner  ;  or  destroy  it  for  his  sake, 
This  made  him  lay  all  other  thoughts  aside, 
And  for  his  own  sectirity  provide. 
Could  David  on  the  Keilites  have  rely'd, 
That  they  would  have  stood  faithful  to  his  side  ; 
He  durst  have  held  the  town  against  the  king, 
And  all  the  forces  in  hi3  power  to  bring. 

h  was  a  place  of  strength  ;  and  more, 
ill  provisions,  for  a  siege  in  f.tcie, 

ting  how  the  citizens  might  hold, 
■   the  force  of  steel,   or  pow'r  of  gold  ; 
the  sacred  oracle  did  go, 

pose,  a  d  the  Keilites  faith  to  know. 
•  answer  was,   Saul  will  come  down  ;  aad  they, 
To  save  themselves,  will  thee  to  him  betray. 
answer,   from  the  oracle  rcceiv'd 
David,  of  the  Keilites  HelfF  bereav'd, 
to  lead  his  slender  band  from  thence, 
1  seek  a  place  of  more  secure  defence. 
durst  himself  and  men  no  longer  trust. 
With  them,   who  were  too  fearful  to  be  just  : 
For  well  he  knew,  were  pressing  fears  prevadj 

and  friendship  quickly  fail. 
Ungrateful  Keilah  therefore  he  forsook, 
to  the  wilderness  himself  betook  : 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  0 

The  wilderness  of  Ziph,  where  he  might  be, 
In  all  appearance,  from  betrayers  free. 

Here  noble  Jonathan  (whose  virtuous  love, 
In  greatest  dangers,  did  itself  approve) 
By  secret  ways,  to  David  did  repair  : 
Whose  heart  was  almost  overwhelm'd  with  care;- 

A6  pensive  lovers  feel  a  sudden  cheer, 
On  seeing  th'  object  of  their  love  appear,. 
So  David  (at  the  unexpected  sight 
Of  Jonathan,  his  very  soul's  delight) 
Forgetting  all  his  fears,  and  sorrows  past, 
With  gladsome  smiles  his  faithful  friend  embrac'd  ! 
Who  such  returns  of  hearty  love  did  make", 
As  well  the  iirraaess  of  his  friendship  Bpakq; 
Then  to  a  shady  pine  they  jointly  walk  ; 
And,,  'twixt  themselves,  of  David's  troubles  talk; 

No  need  had  David  now  himself  to  moan  : 
His  friend  knew  how  to  make  his  cause  his  own  : 
He  kindly  to  him  spake,  and  had  a  word 
Of  comfort  to  confirm  him  in  the  Lord. 
Bid  him  not  fear;  but  in  the  Lord  confide, 
Who  was  (he  could  assure  him)  on  his  side. 
Told  him,  the  Lord  would  cover  him,  that  Saul- 
Should  be  unable  to  effect  his  fall. 
And  prophet-like,  fortold  him  that  the  throne 
Of  Israel  should  one  day  be  his  own  : 
And  he  himself  the  next  in  dignity. 
(Unhapy  man  !   who  others  fate  could  see, 
But  not  his  own.)   Thus'baving  cheer' 
And  time  requiring,  they  their  conf  'rence  e 
And  then,  before  the  Lord,  they  both  rer 
Their  covenant ;  and,  kissing,  bid  adieu. 


CHAP, 


5tt  DAVIDEIS.  Book  II. 


CHAP.  V. 

AS  in  the  winter,  show'rs  and  storms  succeed 
To  sun-shine,  which  to  travellers  do  breed 
Mere  toil  and  hardship,  than  the  transient  smile 
Of  sol  gave  comfort,  which  they  had  e'er  while  : 
So  after  David's  heart  had  been  made  glad, 
By  the  kind  visit  which  he  lately  had, 
Fresh  storms  arose  ;  his  troubles  now  grew  more*. 
And  dangers  greater  than  they  were  before. 
Saul  furiously  approach'd,  and  well  he  knew, 
With  num'rous  forces,  and  his  own  but  few- 
Saul  only  wanted  knowledge  where  he  lay  ; 
And  come  he  knew,  would  guide  him  to  his  prey. 

The  pick-thank  Ziphites  in  whose  trackless  wood 
Th'  'afflicted  prince,  with  his  retinue  stood, 
To  curry  favour,  hasten  to  the  king  : 
And  where  poor  David  was,  glad  tidings  bring  : 
Engaging,  if  he  came  without  delay, 
They  David  would  into  their  hands  betray. 

Attentive  ears  to  ah  the  Ziphites  told, 
The  king  did  lend,  and  smoothly  them  cajoll'd  ; 
Bestow'd  a  graceless  blessing  on  the  band, 
Begg'd  them  to  go  again,  and  understand 
More  fully  all  his  haunts,  and  closely  spy 
The  lurking  places,  where  he  us'd  to  lie, 
And  bring  him  word  :  away  the  Ziphites  post, 
But  David  had,  mean  while,  forsook  their  coast ; 
And  to  the  wilderness  of  Maon  gone  : 
The  plain  that's  on  the  south  of  Jeshimon, 
Th;s  when  Sail  heard,  he  thither  bent  his  course  j 
Resolving  to  prevail  by  fraud  or  force  , 
So  swiftly  nt  pursu  d,  he  David  found, 
And  him,  and  all  his  men,  environ'd  round. 
Great  was  the  strait  poor  David  now  was  in  : 
So  great,  he  never  had  in  greater  been. 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  « 

No  hope  to  conquer,  nor  no  way  to  fi,y  : 
Nothing  remained,  but  to  fight  or  die, 
When  lo  !    a  messenger  came  panting  in, 
And  told  the  king,  the  bloody  Philistine 
Invaded  had  the  land  ;  and  all  was  lost 
(At  least,  that  lay  upon  the  bord'ring  coast) 
Unless  he  came  with  speed  ;  therefore,  O  king, 
He  cry'd,   make  no  delay  ;  thy  forces  bring 
To  save  the  land,  and  let  the  king  make  haste, 
Before  the  country  be  laid  wholly  waste. 

This  startling  message  made  the  king  with  speed 
Return  ;  and  David  from  his  danger  freed. 
Thus  God  sometimes,  by  unexpected  ways. 
Relief  to  his  distressed  ones  conveys, 
Exciting  others  upon  them  to  fall, 
Who  would  the  righteous,  without  cause,  enthral. 

This  great  dekVrance,  with  a  thankful  heart, 
To  God  ascrib'd,  thence  David  doth  depart, 
And,  with  his  little  band  of  men  did  hie 
Unto  the  fortresses  of  En-gedi  : 
A  place  of  greater  strength,  and  whence  he  might, 
If  over-press'd,  secure  himself  by  flight : 
Concluding  right,   'twould  not  be  long  e'er  Saul, 
With  greater  forces,  would  upon  him  . 
His  expe&atiofi  fail'd  not,  for  the  kii 
The  Ph  listines  repell'd,  doth  with  him  bring 
Three  tiiousatad  chosen  men  ;   men  he  had  try'd, 

:se  fidelity  he  could  confide  : 
A-.J.  now   himself,  with  pleasing  hopes,  he  fed. 
That  he  should  David  take,  alive  or  dead. 

But  God,  who  oft  on  wicked  men  doth  bring 
The  hurts  they  plot,   'gainst  others  ;   did  the  king 
Cast  single  into  David's  hands.      Now  he 
Might,  with  one  stroke,  himself  for  ever- free 
From  Saul's  pursuits.      For  Saul  i  his'meiv 

nature's  call,  rctir'd  into  a  den  ; 
(His  royal  robe  he  laid  aside  t 

any  tincV  the  garment  should  defile) 

Not 


32  DAVIDEIS.  Book  II. 

Not  thinking  David  in  the  cave  had  been, 
Or  that  he  had,  by  human  eye  been  seen. 

Who,  but  a  David,  would  have  let  his  foe, 
At  such  advantage  found,  in  safety  go  ! 
No  small  temptation  to  him  it  must  be, 
To  set  himself  from  all  his  troubles  free  ; 
His  firm  attendants  too  their  lord  provoke, 
To  strike  himself,  or  let  them  give  the  stroke. 

But  he,  whose  noble  breast  was  throughly  fill'd? 
With  loyal  principles,  from  heav'n  instill'd, 
(Not  liking  to,  in  case  he  should  succeed 
Unto  the  crown,  his  subjects,  such  a  deed 
For  precedent  should  have)  with  brave  disdain 
Of  such  a  fact,  his  foll'wers  did  restrain. 

Yet  that  the  king  might  sensible  be  made, 
How  causelessly  he  was  of  him  afraid  ; 
He  gently  stept  to  where  the  garment  lay, 
And,  undiscerned,  cut  the  skirt  away. 
Then  drawing  back,  he  waited  till  the  king 
His  robe  resum'd,  went  forth  ;  and  following, 
He,  at  a  distance,  well  secur'd,  did  stand 
(Having  the  lappet  of  the  robe  in's  hand) 
And  with  extended  voice,  but  humble  speech, 
Obeisance  made,  he  did  the  king  beseech 
To  view  the  skirt  ;  an  evidence,  quoth  he, 
Of  innocence  and  loyalty  in  me  r 
For  well  thou  may^st  conclude,  when  I  so  near 
Unto  thee  was,  unseen  ;   I  could  my  spear 
As  easily  into  thy  side  have  put, 
As  from  thy  garment  I  the  skirt  did  cut. 
But  that  thy  life,   O  king,  to  me  was  dear* 
In  that  I  did  not  hurt  thee  doth  appear. 

So  well  his  righteous  cause  did  David  plead, 
(Having  none  else  for  him  to  intercede) 
So  did  lie  manifest  his  innocence, 
So  clear'd  himself  from  ail  surmis'd  offence, 
So  earnestly  upon  the  Lord  did  call, 
Judgment  to  give  betwixt  himself  and  Saul  ; 

Tin 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  SB 

That  Saul  observing,  did  confounded  stand, 

Amaz'd  to  see  his  skirt  in  David's  hand: 

The  sight  of  which  convinc'd  him,  David  could 

At  the  same  time  have  slain  him  if  he  would. 

This  satisfy'd  him,  that  his  life  he  ow'd 

To  David's  mercy,  which  from  virtue  flow'd. 

The  sense  whereof  made  him  first  weep,  then  Cry, 

"  Thou,  my  son  David,  art  more  just  than  I : 

"   For  thou,  for  all  the  evil  I  have  done 

"  To  thee,  hast  me  rewarded  well  my  son. 

"  What  man  his  foe,  at  such  advantage  found, 

"  Would  spare  !  thy  goodness  doth  to  me  abound. 

"  Wherefore  the  Lord  reward  thee  good,   I  pray, 

"   For  thy  great  kindness  shewn  to  me  this  day. 

Then  adding,  "  Now,  behold,  by  this  I  know 

i(  The  Israelitish  crown  to  the  shall  go  : 

*•  And  that  the  kingdom  shall  established  be 

*'  On  thee,  and  thine,  by  heaven's  just  decree. 

"  Swear  therefore,  said  he,  to  me,  by  the  Lord, 

"  That  thou  wilt  mercy  to  my  seed  afford  : 

"  And  not  for  my  offence,  cut  of  the  same, 

**  But  leave  me  in  my  father's  house  a  name." 

His  title  to  the  kingdom  David  knew, 
Better  than  Saul  ;  and  whence  that  title  grew  : 
Ev'n  from  the  sacred  oil,  which,  on  his  head, 
The  prophet  had  by  God's  appointment  shed. 
Wherefore;  to  humour  Saul,  he  to  him  sware  : 
Which  done,   Saul  strait  way  homeward  did  repair  ; 
But  David  who  too  well  the  king  did  know 
To  trust  him  ;  up  into  the  hold  did  go. 

CHAP.  VI. 

THE  prophet  Sam'el  now  resign 'd  his  breath 
To  God  who  gave  it.     To  lament  whose  death 
And,  with  a  due  regard  to  solemnize, 
ublic  manner  his  sad  obsequies ; 

Th*t 


54  DAVIDEIS.  Boo*  II. 

The  Israelites,  with  one  consent,  did  hie 
To  Ramah,  where  he  liv'd,  and  was  to  lie, 
And  that  the  king,  who  lov'd  to  seem  devout, 
Would  give  attendance  there,  we  need  not  doubt. 
This  gave  poor  David  some  few  days  of  ease, 
And  from  his  fears  did  him  a  while  release. 

To  Paran  now,  new  quarters  seeking,  he 
Remov'd  his  little  camp  from  En-gedi  ; 
From  wilderness  to  wilderness  ;  where  still 
To  get  provisions  would  require  his  skill. 

Here,    wants  encreasing,  he  to  mind  did  call, 
That  long  before  he  fled  the  face  of  Saul, 
There  liv'd  a  wealthy  miser  on  that  coast, 
Who  of  his  great  posse ssions  us'd  to  boast. 

Besides  a  thousand  goats,  three  thousand  sheep, 
His  hinds  in  Carmel,  constantly  did  keep. 
So  great  a  flock  must  many  hands  employ 
(Many  a  lusty  man,  and  sturdy  boy) 
To  keep  and  shear  the  sheep,  and  wind  the  wool  ; 
Nor  would  a  little  keep  their  bellies  full, 
Great  store  of  victuals  therefore  must  be  drcst 
In  such  an  house  ;  although  there  were  no  guest  : 
And  custom  had  prevail'd  to  that  degree, 
To  every  friend  the  shearing  feast  was  free. 

This  David  well  considering,  and  hearing 
That  this  rich  neighbour  had  begun  sheep-shearing, 
Thcught  it  a  proper  time  for  him  to  try, 
Whether  his  wealth  was  mixtwith  charity, 
He  therefore  chose  out  ten  young  men,  who  were 
Of  his  retinue,  them  he  bid  repair 
To  go  to  Nabal   (for  that  was  the  name^ 
Of  this  rich  man)   and  when  to  him  they  came, 
They,  in  their  master's  name,  should  him  salute, 
In  such  terms  as  his  humour  best  might  suit. 
"Wish,  peace,  said  he,  to  him,  his  house,  and  all 
Whatever  he  doth  possess,  both  great  and  small. 
When  thus  ye  have  address' d  him,  tell  him  I, 
Who  might  command,  entreat  his  courtesy. 

6  Which 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  55 

Which  to  excite,  put  him  in  mind,  that  we 
From  doing  hurt  to  him,  or  his,  are  free. 
For  proof  of  which  we  boldly  dare  appeal 
To  his  own  servant's  :  may  but  he  so  deal 
With  us,  as  we  by  them  have  dealt,  while  they 
Among  us  fed  his  nocks  from  day  to  day. 
Then  close  your  message  thus,  since  we  are  come 
In  a  good  day  5  give  us,  we  pray  thee,  some 
Of  thy  provisions  ;  that  thy  servants  may 
To  David  thy  beneficence  convey. 

Thus  David's  servants,  unto  Carmel  come, 
To  Nabal  spake.     But  he,  with  aspedl  glum, 
And  scornful  tone  ;  said,  who  is  David  ?  who 
The  son  of  Jesse  ?  Many  servants  do 
Break,  now  a  days  each  from  his  Lord,  that  he 
Himself  may,  from  his  due  obedience,  free. 
And  would  you  have  me  take  my  bread  and  meat, 
(Provisions  for  my  guests,  and  men  to  eat) 
And  squander  'em  to  such  ;   I  neither  know 
From  whence  they  come,  nor  whither  they  may  go. 

This  surly  answer  did  the  men  so  scare, 
That  they   (like  modest  beggars,  as  they  were) 
Not  pressing  further,  to  their  lord  return  : 
And,  with  the  story,  make  his  spirits  burn. 
For  he  no  sooner  heard  with  what  despight, 
The  brutish  clown  his  just  request  did  slight ; 
But,  in  a  high  resentment  of  th'  affront, 
(And  resolution  to  take  vengeance  on't) 
He  to  his  soldiers  forthwith  gave  the  word, 
Arm,  arm  with  speed  :   and  girding  on  his  sword, 
Drew  forth  four  hundred  ;  which  he  thought  enough 
(Leaving  the  rest  to  guard  the  camp  and  stuff  ) 
And  with  a  stormy  mind,  and  martial  heat, 
March'd  on,  bestowing  many  a  direful  threat 
On  Nabal  now,  who  single  must  not  fall, 
But  he,  and  his  own  family  withal. 

In  vain,  said  David,  have  I  safely  kept 
This  fellow's  flocks,  while  he  securely  slept. 

F  Vfc 


$6  DAVIDEIS.  Book  11 

He  might  a  civil  answer  sure  have  sent, 

If  he,  to  part  with  nothing,  was  so  bent. 

I'll  take  such  veng'ance  on  th'  ungrateful  wretch, 

That  others  may  from  him  example  fetch. 

While  thus  enraged  David  made  such  haste, 
Nabal  to  slay,  and  his  whole  house  lay  waste  ; 
Propitious  providence,  whose  piercing  eye 
Sees  all  mens  deeds,  and  thoughts  too  from  on  high* 
And  with  a  secret,  over-ruling  arm, 
As  well  from  doing,  as  receiving  harm  ; 
Doth  his  preserve  :  did  now  contrive  a  way 
David,  from  shedding  guiltless  blood,  to  stay. 
Such  means  too  oft,  through  stupid  ignorance, 
Are  weakly  plac'd  to  accident  or  chance, 
By  thoughtless  men  ;  though  others  clearly  see 
They  are  the  effects  of  a  divine  decree, 
Which  oft  thro'  instruments  are  brought  to  pass  $ 
As  this,  whereof  we  now  are  speaking,  was. 

For  Nabal,  though  himself  a  fool,  or  mad, 
(As  e'en  his  veiy  name  imports)  yet  had 
A  well  accomplis'h  wife,  discreet  and  wise, 
Fair-spoken,  full  of  virt'ous  qualities  : 
Who  offctier  husband's  rudeness  did  bewail, 
And  seek  to  hide  :  her  name  was  Abigail. 

To  her  a  servant  (who  had  seen  and  heard 
His  master's  foul  behaviour,  justly  fear'd 
The  dire  effects  oft)  hasten'd  to  th'  intent, 
That  she,  forwarn'd,  the  mischief  might  prevent. 

Mistress,  said  he,  David,  to  whom,  we  know, 
The  safety  of  ourselves  and  flocks  we  owe  ; 
Who  hath  so  kind  a  neighbour  been,  that,  since 
He  came  to  live  among  us,  a  defence 
He  hath  been  to  us,  both  by  night  and  day, 
Securing  us  from  thieves,  and  beasts  of  prey  : 
This  courteous  prince  hath  to  our  master  sent 
Ambassadors,  both  with  a  compliment 
Of  gratulation,  and  a  small  request  ; 
That  he'd  admit  him  (as  an  absent  guest) 

To 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  51 

To  be  partaker,  in  some  sort  at  least, 
Of  the  abundance  of  his  shearing-feast. 

But  Oh  !  our  master,  who  thou  know'st  t<KJrwell, 
Is  so  ungovern'd,  that  if  one  do  but  tell 
A  civil  message  to  him,  he  will  fall 
Foul  on  him,  like  a  son  of  Belial. 
So  did  he  now  at  David's  men  let  fly 
A  rude  inveclive,  full  of  raillery, 
Against  their  master,  and  them  back  hath  sent 
Empty  of  food  ;  but  full  of  discontent. 
Consider  therefore,  mistress,  what  to  do, 
For  quick  diverting  the  impending  blow  ; 
For  evil,  if  not  stopt,  is  like  to  fall 
Upon  our  master,  and  through  him,  us  all. 

Not  without  great  surprise,  we  may  suppose, 
Th'  attentive  dame  did  hear  such  words  as  those  : 
Which  she  had  reason  to  believe  were  true  ; 
For  she  too  well  her  husband's  temper  knew, 
But  being  of  a  well  composed  mind 
(To  all  men  just,  and  to  her  husband  kind) 
She  did  not  think  it  was  a  proper  season, 
With  him,  of  his  ill  carr'age  then  to  reason  : 
But  hasten  all  she  could,  to  go,  and  try 
If  she  the  injur'd  prince  could  pacify. 

Her  husband  therefore  not  consulted,  she 
A  present  took,  of  what  might  likely  be 
To  gain  acceptance,   [bread,  wine,  flesh  well-drest, 
Figs,  raisins,  parched-corn]   all  of  the  best, 
In  good  proportion  ;  which  on  asses  laid, 
She  sent  before  her  ;  and,  for  haste,  ne'er  staid 
Herself  to  deck  ;  but  in  her  common  dress, 
Sped  after,  bending  to  the  wilderness. 

As  down  the  hill  she  rode,  her  watchful  eye 
Did  David,  with  his  men  descending,  spy 
From  th'  adverse  hill ;  at  equal  distance  set, 
They,  in  the  interjacent  valley  met. 

Come  near  to  David,  from  her  ass  she  leapt, 
And.  with  submissive  look,  first  forward  stept 


58  DAVIDEIS.  Book  II. 

A  pace,' oij  two  ;  then  prostrate  at  his  feet 
She  fell ;   and  modestly  the  prince  did  greet  : 

"   On  me,  my  lord,  I  pray,  on  me  let  lie 
"  The  punishment  for  this  iniquity. 
44  Let'iiot  my  lord  this  man  of  Belial  heed, 
"  Nabal,  whose  name  and  nature  are  agreed 
"   So  well,  that  by  his  name  is  well  exprest 
"  The  folly  which  doth  in  his  bosom  rest. 
"   Resent  it  not.      But  let  thy  handmaid  stand 
"  'Twixt  him  and  thee  ;  subject  to  thy  command. 
"  Yet  give  me  leave,  I  pray,  to  speak  a  word, 
"  A  word  in  season,  to  my  honour' d  lord  ; 
"  Which  shall  be  nothing  but  the  truth  ;  that  so, 
"  Thou  may'st  the  right  state  of  the  matter  know  ; 
"  For  of  a  truth,  my  lord,   I  did  not  see 
"  The  messengers  that  came  to  him  from  thee  : 
"  Nor  of  the  matter  did  one  tittle  hear, 
44  Till  they  were  gone  ;  and  then  both  shame  and  fear 
44  Did  spur  me  on  to  hasten  to  my  lord, 
44  And  bow  my  neck  unto  thy  right'ous  sword. 
"  Strike,  if  thou  please  :  yet  give  me  leave  to  say, 
44  The  Lord  will  thee  avenge  another  way. 
"  Stain  not  thine  hand  with  blood,  but  to  the  Lord 
44   Refer  thy  cause  ;  who  can,  without  thy  sword, 
44   Revenge  thy  wrongs  ;  may  who  seeks  ill  to  thee, 
44   Be  in  like  case  as  Nabal  soon  will  be." 

Then  humbly  offering  him  the  things  she  brought* 
Her  present  to  accept  she  him  besought. 
And  raising  her  discourse  to  higher  things  ; 
(Such  as  concern'd  the  kingdom)  home  she  brings  -2 
The  matter  to  himself ;  and  thus  apply'd 
The  case  to  him  j  as  if  she  prophesy'd. 
"   Because  my  lord,  thou  dost  his  battles  fight, 
44  The  Lord  of  hosts  in  thee  doth  take  del  ght.    ' 
44  He'll  make  thee  a  sure  house,  wherein  to  dwell  ; 
44  And  set  thee  on  the  throne  of  Israel. 
44  Thy  head  shall  wear  the  Israelitish  crown, 
d  t]  :  id  die  in  high  renown. 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  59 

Then,  giving  Saul  some   (not  unwelcome)  blows, 
She  thus  to  David  her  discourse  did  close  : 
"  When  thou  hast  found  the  Lord  deal  well  with  thee, 
"   Remember  that  it  was  foretold  by  me." 

This  said,  she  stopt :  but  not  before  the  Lord 
Had  David  quite  disarm'd  (not  of  his  sword, 
ijut)  of  his  anger,  and  that  hot  displeasure, 
Which,  in  his  breast  had  boil'd  beyond  due  measure. 
He  now  is  changed  :  his  heat  is  now  allay'd, 
And  looking  on  fair  Abigail,  he  said  : 

"  Blest  be  the  God  of  Isr'el  who  this  day 
"  Sent  thee  to  meet,  and  stop  me  on  the  way. 
"  Blessed  be  thy  advice  ;  and  blessed  be 
"  Thou  too,  for  giving  it.     Whereby  thou  me 
"  Prevented  hast  from  shedding  blood  ;  which  I 
u  To  do,  hadst  thou  not  come,  was  very  nigh. 
u  I  did  the  injury  too  high  resent : 
"  And  to  revenge  as  high,  was  fully  bent. 
"  But  now  from  thoughts  of  violence  I  cease, 
*'  And  gladly  send  thee  back  again  in  peace. 
u   Return,  fair  dame,  return  ;  for  I  rejoice, 
"  That  I  have  heard,  and  hearken'd  to  thy  voice. 
"  Thy  virtues  good  impressions  in  me  leave  ; 
"  And  I  thy  present  gratefully  receive. 
"  Thy  wise  behaviour  hath  atonement  made,. 
"  For  the  offence  thy  husband's  rudeness  laid/' 
Then  parting,,  he  unto  his  camp  retir'd  ; 
She  to  her  house  ;  he  her,  she  him  admir'd. 

CHAP.  VII.     " 


WHEN  Abigail  returned  home,  she  found 
Nabal  kept  open  house  ;  all  things  abounct 
Ev'n  to  profusion  ;  such  a  lavish 'feast, 
As  might  have  entertain'd  a  royal  guest. 
The  wine  60  freely  flow'd,  and  he  the  cup 
So  often  took  ;  so  often  turn'd  it  up  : 

F  2  Ti-at 


60  DAVIDEIS.  Book  II. 

That  he,  who  was  the  master  of  the  feast, 
Had  now  transform'd  himself  from  man  to  beast : 
In  high  excess  he  spent  the  jovial  day, 
And  stupid,  now  in  drink,  he  snoring  lay. 

This  was  no  time  to  speak  to  him.      But  when, 
Next  morn,  his  little  sense  return'd  again  ; 
She  in  due  order,  did  to  him  relate 
The  danger  he  had  'scap'd  ;  how  near  his  gate 
David's  vindictive  sword  had  been  ;  how  he, 
And  all  his  house,  were  near  a  massacre. 
How  instant  danger  o'er  them  all  had  hung, 
The  cause,  his  rudeness  and  abusive  tongue. 

This  he  no  sooner  heard,  but  strait  the  thought? 
O  f  danger,  he  upon  himself  had  brought, 
(Though  now  he  knew  'twas  over)   struck  a  dart 
Into  his  mean,  and  too  unmanly  heart. 
His  spirits  sunk  ;  and  in  some  ten  days  time, 
Smote  by  the  Lord,  his  life  went  for  his  crime. 
So  great  a  man,  so  strange  a  death,  so  near 
To  David's  camp,  must  quickly  reach  his  ear. 
Which  when  he  heard,  he  blest  the  Lord  that  he 
Had  both  from  self-avenging  kept  him  free  : 
And  also  had  by  an  immediate  stroke, 
Aveng'd  his  cause,  and  Nabal's  heart  had  broke.. 

Then  recollecting  what  a  goodly  dame 
(With  beauty,  wisdom,  virtue,  youth  and  fame, 
Adorned)  Abigail  to  him  appear'd, 
When   (to  avert  the  storm  she  justly  fear'd) 
She,  as  a  suppliant,  the  other  day, 
Akho'  with  tears  bedew'd,  before  him  lay  : 
Love  kindled  in  his  heart  a  noble  flame, 
With  honour  to  espouse  the  lovely  dame. 
To   her  he,  therefore,  quickly  did  dispatch 
Ambassadors  to  treat  an  happy  match 
Between  them  ;  let  her  know  how  chaste  a  flame 
Possest  his  breast  ;  and  court  her  in  his  name, 
Conduct  her  safe,  that  she  might  be  his  wife, 
Partaker  of  his  fourlunes*  during  life. 


Book  It.  DAVIDEIS,  61 

The  message  told  :  wise  Abigail,  who  knew 
How  great,  how  good,  how  wise,  how  just,  how  true 
Prince  David  was  ;  how  pious  and  how  dear 
Tp  God,  and  also  to  the  crown  how  near  ; 
Did  not  take  state  upon  her,  nor  require 
Time  to  consider,  and  be  courted  higher, 
But,  by  an  humble  phrase,  express  consent  ; 
And  mounting,  well  attended,  with  them  went 
To  David,  who,  with  joy,  did  her  receive  : 
And  each,  in  heart,  did  to  the  other  cleave. 

About  this  time  too,  or  not  long  before, 
David  (who  long  had  been  afflicted  sore, 
For  loss  of  Michal,  and  now  hopeless  grown, 
That  he  should  e'er  enjoy  her  as  his  own) 
Marry'd  Ahinoam,  a  goodly  dame, 
Of  Jezreel,  who  out  of  Judah  came, 
So  that  he  now  was  doubly  wiv'd,  and  might 
In  there  sweet  conversation  take  delight. 

At  once  was  David  of  the  two  posiess'd, 
With  father's  joy,  and  brother's  beauty  bless'd  : 
The  first  by  Abigail  was  signify 'd  ; 
The  latter  nam'd  his  Jezreelitish  bride. 
This  made  him  Michal's  absence  better  bear  ; 
Supply 'd  by  two,  so  virtuous,  and  so  fair, 
For  she,  her  cruel  father  (more  to  vex 
Poor  David,  and  his  state  the  more  perplex) 
Had  to  another  given  ;  and  did  constrain 
Th'  unwilling  dame  her  nuptial  bed  to  stain. 
O  impious  man  !   who  gave  her  for  a  snare 
To  David   (as  he  stuck  not  to  declare*) 
Which  she  not  proving  :   In  revengeful  rage 
He  to  another  did  her  soon  engage. 


CHAP. 

I  Saw.  x\*ii.  a i, 


&2  DAVTDEIS.  Book  f& 


CHAP.  VIII. 

A  Time  of  respite  David  bad  enjoy'd, 
While  Sam'el's  funeral  the  king  employed, 
A  time  of  joy  ;  wherein  he  might  at  leisure 
Refresh  himself  with  undisturbed  pleasure. 
But  now  his  troubles  hasten  on  again 
And  he  must  now  repeat  his  former  pain. 
He  now  for  self-defence  had  need  prepare,  ^ 

Lest  Saul  be  on  him  e'er  he  be  aware. 

For  Saul  to  Gibeah  was  no  sooner  come, 
But  the  false  Ziphites  thither  to  him  run, 
Inform  him,  David  doth  near  them  reside, 
And  in  their  woods  himself  and  men  doth  hide  : 
Offer  their  service,  urge  the  forward  king 
To  come  ;  and  with  him  strength  enough  to  bring. 

This  invitation,  added  to  the  fire 
In  Saul's  own  breast,  kindled  so  3trong  desire 
Of  taking  David  :  that  he  forthwith  rose 
Prom  Gibeah,  and  in  quest  of  David  goes  : 
Leading  three  thousand  with  him,  men  well  try'd, 
Vailiant  and  strong  ;  in  whom  he  could  confide. 
These  into  the  woods  of  Ziph  did  draw. 
And  pitched  in  the  hill  of  Hachilah. 
David,  mean  while,  informed  by  his  scouts, 
That  Saul  lay  encamped  somewhere  thereabouts 
In  th*  evening  ventur'd  from  his  hold  to  try 
Saul's  strength,  and  disposition  to  descry. 

Come  to  the  camp,  he  saw  where  Saul  did  lye^ 
Within  the  trench,  his  spear  just  sticking  by 
His  bolster ;  and  a  cruse  of  water  near 
His  thirst  to  quench,  and  spirits  also  cheer. 
This  seeing,  unobserv'd  strait  back  he  goes  ; 
Fetches  Abishai  ;  unto  whc^i  he  shows 
Saul,  Abner,  ail  the  soldiers  fast  asle'.p  j 
No  centinel  awake,  the  watch  to  keep. 

Fain 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  63 

Fain  would  Abishai  give  the  fatal  stroke, 
To  free  his  master  from  the  tyrant's  yoke  ; 
And  much  he  press'd,  and  hard  he  begg'd  for  leave 
To  strike  a  blow,  might  Saul  of  life  bereave. 

But  noble  David   (in  whose  gen'rous  breast 
Loyal  and  pious  principles  did  rest) 
Flatly  forbad  it,  saying  God  forbid 
That  I  should  so  myself  from  trouble  rid. 
The  Lord  forbid,  that  I  mine  hand  should  stretch 
Against  the  Lord's  anointed.      Such  a  wretch 
May  I  ne'er  be  !   I'll  leave  him  to  the  Lord, 
Who  works  by  various  ways  besides  the  sword. 
But  take,  said  he,  his  water-pot  and  spear, 
By  which  my  innocency  may  appear, 

This  undiscover'd,  done,  they  both  withdrew  ; 
And  from  a  distant  eminence  in  view, 
To  Abner,  David,  loud,  directs  his  call, 
The  gallant  Abner,   Saul's  brave  general : 
Alarm'd,  he  starts,  and  cries,  whose  tongue  doth  ring 
So  shrill  ?  speak  softly  lest  thou  wake  the  king. 

Ah  !   art  not  thou  a  valliant  man  ?  but  where, 
Said  David,  is  thy  vigilance  and  care  ? 
For  there  came  one  unto  the  king's  bed-side, 
(Whom  none  of  all  your  centinels  descry 'd) 
By  whom  the  king  might  have  been  slain,  had  I 
Not  interpos'd.     Who  now  deserves  to  die  ? 
And  that  the  truth  thereof  may  plain  appear, 
See  here  his  cruse  of  water,  and  his  spear. 

By  this  time  Saul,  awaking  with  the  noise, 
And  startling  at  the  sound  of  David's  voice, 
Cry'd,  is  it  thou,  my  son  ?  Yes,  yes,  it  is, 
Said  David  :  wherein  have  I  done  amiss  ? 
Since  I  to  thee,  O  king,  am  always  true  : 
Why  ?  oh  why  thus  dost  thou  my  life  pursue  ? 
If  thou  thus  hunt'st  me  by  the  Lord's  command, 
May  he  accept  an  off'ring  at  my  hand. 
But  if  this  mischief,  by  the  sons  of  men, 
io'd  against  me,  with  design,  O,  then 

Accursed 


64r  DAVIDEIS.  Book  it 

Accursed  of  the  Lord  be  they,  who  strive 
Me  from  th'  inheritance  of  God  to  drive, 
As  iflthey  said,  to  other  Gods  be  gone  : 
Yet  r  resolve  to  serve  the  Lord  alone, 
And  therefore  trust  in  his  support  thro'  all 
That  to  the  earth  my  blood  may  never  fall. 
How  mean  a  thing  it  is,  that  Israel's  king 
An  armed  host  into  the  field  should  bring, 
To  seek  a  flea  !   are  men  of  wisdom  wont, 
With  armies,  after  partridges  to  hunt  ! 
No  greater  I  than  these  may  counted  be, 
If  I,  great  prince,  compared  am  to  thee. 

Not  more  did  David's  rhetoric  prevail 
On  Saul,  than  that  which  never  us'd  to  fail 
With  him,  and  such  as  he,  the  sight  of's  spear 
In  David's  hand  ;  whereby  he  knew  how  near 
David  to  him  had  been,  whilst  fast  asleep, 
He  lay  at  David's  mercy   (none  to  keep 
The  stroke  off  from  him)  who  might  with  one  blow 
Have  sent  his  soul  down  to  the  shades  below  ; 
Yet  did  not  hurt  him.     This  the  better  part 
Of  Saul's  ill  nature  reach'd  ;  and  in  his  heart 
Kindled  a  spark  of  gratitude  ;  from  whence 
Sprang  an  acknowledgment  of  his  offence. 
Frankly,  as  o^ce  before,  in  like  distress, 
His  error,  folly,   sin  he  doth  confess. 

Son  David,  I  have  greatly  sin'd,  said  he, 
I  beg  thy  pardon  ;  pray  return  to  me. 
Full  well  I  know,  that  I  have  play'd  the  fool, 
And  broke  the  precepts  taug^ht  in  virtue's  schooL 
But  never  more  will  I  against  thee  rise, 
Because  my  life  was  precious  in  thine  eyes. 

The  Lord,  said  David,  o.ice  again  hath  put 
Thee  in  my  pow'r.      I  eas'ly  might  have  cut 
Thy  thread  asunder."     God  so  deal  with  me, 
As.. I  have. faithful  been,  and  kind  to  thee, 


When 


Book  II.  DAVIDEIS.  65 

When  David  ceas'd,  Saul  did  his  blessings  give  i 
Wishing  he  in  prosperity  might  live. 
Then  parting,  Saul  returned  to  his  place. 
And  David  to  his  camp  directs  his  pace. 


T*rX.END  OF  THE   SECOND  BOOK, 


DAVIDEIS. 


DAVIDEIS. 

BOOK  III. 

CHAPTER   1. 


LONG  had  the  Hebrew  commonwealth  been  tern 
By  civil  jars,  since  first  the  sacred  horn 
On  David's  head,  from  rev'rend  Samuel's  hand, 
Had  empty'd  been  by  God's  express  command. 
While  the  tall  son  of  Kish,  with  armed  force 
Begirt   (the  flow'r  of  Israel's  foot  and  horse) 
Left  nothing  unattempted,  to  bring  down 
The  son  of  Jess',  the  rival  of  his  crown  : 
The  princely  youth  by  envy  doom  to  fall, 
Because  his  virtues  far  exceeded  Saul  : 
Who  can  recount  the  jeopardies,  which  he 
Was  daily  in,  while  he  was  fain  to  flee 
From  cave  to  rock  ;  from  one  hold  to  another, 
And  safety  for  his  aged  sire  and  mother 
In  Moab  seek  ;  himself  enfore'd  to  fly 
To  Achish  Israel's  utter  enemy  ! 
Who  the  great' Philistines  so  lately  slew, 
Is  glad  now  to  a  Philistine  to  sue 
For  shelter  ;   driven,  by  domestick  foes, 
To  beg,   from  foreign  enemies  repose. 
Adullum,   Mizpeh,  Harath,   Keilah,  Ziph, 
En-gedi,   Paian,  arid  the  craggy  cliff 
Of  Hachilah,  the  rocks  where  wild  goats  breed, 
Witness  the  hardships  borne  by  Jesse's  seed 

A  sabbath  now  of  years  was  fully  run, 
Since  David's  causeless  troubles  first  begun  j      • 

,  V 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  67 

When  the  Almighty,  having  throughly  prov'd 
The  faith  and  love  of  him  he  throughly  lov'd, 
Said,   'tis  enough  !    and  with  that  word  decreed 
The  means,  whereby  his  David  should  be  freed. 

The  Philistines  again  in#ade  the  land, 
The  tall,  but  trembling  king,  is  at  a  stand. 
From  God  departed,  he  of  God  is  left, 
Of  counsel,  and  of  courage  both,  bereft 
What  course,  in  this  so  great  a  strait,  to  steer, 
He  wist  not ;   'twixt  necessity  and  fear. 
The  prophet,  from  whose  heaven-inspired  breast, 
Counsel  did  use  to  flow,  was  gone  to  rest. 
Gofi,  nor  by  urim  did,  in  that  extream, 
Vouchsafe  to  give  an  answer,  nor  by  dream  : 
Though  sought  unto.      In  vain  doth  man  expect 
Diliv'rance  by  the  hand  he  doth  rejec~l. 

Deserted  thus  of  God,  the  faithless  king 
Himself  upon  th'  infernal  povv'rs  doth  fling  • 
Consults  a  witch,  and  her  employs  to  raise 
The  prophet  Samuel;  who  many  clays 
Had  with  his  fathers  slept.      O  blinded  wretch  ! 
To  think  a  silly  witch  had  pow'r  to  fetch 
A  sacred  prophet  from  his  peaceful  rest ; 
Or  Devils,  after  death,  could  saints  molest 

Yet  by  the  apparition  which  she  brought, 
Was  Sanl  of  his  approaching  ruin  taught  ; 
And  found  it  true.      The  Philistines  prevail'd 
The  strength  of  Isr'ei  with  their  courage  fail'd 
Numbers  were  slain  ;   the  rest  with  terror  fled, 
And  Saul's  three  sons  were  found  among  the  dead  t 
He  sorely  wounded,  and  in  blood  imbru'd, 
By  chariots  and  by  horsemen  close  pursu'd, 
Bids  his  own  squire   (lest  he  should  be  abus'd) 
>atch  him  quite  ;  but  he  through  fear  refus'd  ; 
,iair  then  prompting,  on  his  sword  he  fell, 
-  durst  against  the  king  of  kings  rebel. 

Such  wa3  the  end  of  disobedient  Saul, 
>m  God  the  first  to  Israel's  crown  did  call 

G  For 


68  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III 

For  not  performing  God's  express  command, 
Perish  he  must.     And  that  by  his  "own  hand. 
H  >  that  spar'd  Agag,  doom'd  by  God  to  death, 
With  his  own  hand  lets  out  his  vital  breath. 
Monarchs,  beware.     Let  this  great  monarch's  fall 
For  ever  be  a  warning  to  you  all. 


CHAP.  IL 

WHILE  this  so  great  discomfiture  befel, 
For  their  king's  Sake,  the  host  of  Israel  ; 
While  streams  of  reeking  blood  did  float  the  plain, 
And  Gilboa  was  loaded  with  the  slain  : 
The  all-commanding  providence  took  care 
That  his  anointed  prince  should  not  be  there  : 
And  by  an  extraordinary  way 
Kept  him  from  danger,  and  from  guilt  that  Day. 

The  great  disposer  of  all  human  things, 
Who,  at  his  pleasure,  makes,  and  unmakes  kings  ; 
Who  hath  the  hearts  of  princes  in  his  hand, 
And  can  our  foes,  to  be  our  friends,  command  ; 
He  had  the  heart  of  Gath's  fierce  king  inclin'd 
To  be  to. David,  in  affliction,  kind. 

Achish  did  Ziklag  unto  David  give, 
Where  he,  with  his  retinue,  safe  migh  live  : 
HeapM  favours  on  him,  promis'd  great  rewards } 
No  less  than  to  be  captain  of  his  guards. 
.But  he  must  to  the  battle  with  him  go, 
And  help  to  give  his  king  an  overthrow. 

How  great  a  strait  must  David  now  be  in* 
Having  no  other  choice,  than  death  or  sin  ! 
Death  if  he  should  refuse  to  fight ;  and  sin, 
In  fighting  Isr'el  for  the  Philistine. 
Thus  sorely  exercis'd,  it  may  be  guess'd, 

thoughts  as  these  might  fill  his  troubled  breast. 

How  can  I  draw  my  sword  against  my  king, 
por.  mvself  the  Odium  bring. 

Of 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  69 

Of  foul  rebellion  !   I  who  never  durst 

Attempt  his  life  ;  although  he  sought  mine  first. 

I  dare  not  (knowing  him  by  God  appointed) 

Stretch  forth  mine  hand  against  the  Lord's  anointed. 

I  will  recall,  how  I  within  was  smote, 

When  I  but  cut  the  skirt  from  off  his  coat. 

What  may  I  then  expect,  but  wrath  divine, 

If  he  should  fall  by  any  stroke  of  mine  ! 

But  say  the  king  were  safe  ;  yet  how  can  I, 
Whose  sword  hath  troops  of  Philistines  made  fly  ; 
Who  purchas'd  Michal  with  the  parted  skins 
Of  four  times  fifty  slaughtered  Philistines  : 
I,  who  the  daring'st  champ'on  of  their  crew 
(They  looking  on)  in  single  combat  slew  ; 
And   (God  assisting)   with  a  single  sling, 
Deliv'rance  did  unto  my  country  bring  : 
Shall  I  now  for  the  Philistines  go  fight 
And  draw  my  sword  against  an  Isr'elite  ! 
Shall  I  assist,  God's  heritage  to  bring 
In  thraldom  to  th*  uncircumcised  king  ! 
Shall  I,  upon  myself,  incur  the  guilt 
Of  all  the  blood  which  may  that  day  be  spilt 
In  Israel !   the  Lord  forbid,  that  I 
Should  ever  yield  to  such  villainy. 

But  yet,  if  I  refuse  my  men  to  lead 
With  Achieh  to  the  feld,  and  cannot  plead 
A  fair  excuse  ;  what  can  I  think  but  he 
Will  thenceforth  treat  me  as  his  enemy  ! 
What  can  I  then  exped  for  me,  and  mine, 
But  present  death  !   or  that  he  will  confine 
Myself  and  men  in  prison  close,  until 
He  may  our  blood  with  ling'ring  torment  spill. 

Shall  I,  this  mischief  to  prevent,  comply 
With  his  commands,  at  least  wise  seemingly  ! 
Shall  I  unto  my  present  fortune  yield, s 
And  briskly  draw  my  forces  to  the  field  ; 
Shall  I  with  Achish  to  the  battle  go, 
As  if  I  were  to  Israel  a  foe  : 

Thwi 


70  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III. 

Then,  when  the  battle's  ]oind,  wheel  about, 
And  help  to  give  the  Philistines  a  rout  ! 
No  !   that  were  base  :  and  I  had  rather  die, 
Than  stain  mine  honour  with  such  treachery, 
Exil'd  from  mine  own  land,   I  hither  fled, 
To  seek  a  shelter  for  my  hunted  head  ; 
I  found  a  kind  reception  with  this  prince, 
And  in  his  favour  I  have  stood  e'er  since. 
To  me  his  bounty  hath  extended  been, 
No  less  than  if  I  were  a  Philistine. 
In  me  he  doth  repose  a  special  trust. 
And  God  forbid  I  should  be  less  than  just. 
Ungrateful,  to  a  proverb,  I  should  be, 
Should  I  betray  him  to  his  enemy. 
Death  rather  choose  !   than  such  an  infamy 
On  David,  or  an  Israelite  should  lie. 

While  David  thus  did  many  thoughts  revolve, 
Not  knowing  what,  with  safety,  to  resolve  : 
( Save,  in  the  rear,  with  Achish  on  to  go, 
And  wait  on  God,  for  counsel  what  to  do  ;) 
The  God  of  David  his  deliv'rance  wrought, 
And  fairly  him  frcm  this  dilemma  brought. 

The  princes  of  the  Philistines,  to  whom 
Their  king's  new  favourite  was  ••ov,  become 
An  eye-sore  ;  not  well  pleas'd  before  to  see 
Gmttt=f«votHfS  KrapM  ••;•  -c  : 

And  now,  observing  that  their  easy  king 
Not  only  David,  and  his  men,   did  bring 
To  battle  ;  hut  had  rang'd  them  by  his  side, 
As  if  in  them  he  chiefly  did  confide  ; 
Their  emulation  could  no  longer  hide, 
But,  with  a  discontented  murmur,  cry'd, 
What  do  these  Hebrews  here !   the  king  would  fain 
Their  discontents  allay  ;  but  try'd  in  vain. 
The  more  he  David's  courage,  conduct,  prais'd, 
The  more  against  him  he  their  cholev  nuYd. 

,-  wrath  brake  forth.      Tins  fellow  make,  sai 
FUti.vii  unto  his  place;  test  be  betray 


Book  III.         DAVIDEIS.  71 

Us,  in  the  heat  of  fight  ;  and  by  that  wile 

Himself  linto  his  master  reconcile. 

For,  by  what  means,  can  he  procure  his  peace 

With  Saul,  so  well  as  by  the  heads  of  these  ? 

Command  him  thefore  back,  for  surely  know, 

He  shall  not,  with  us,  to  the  battle  go. 

They  stoutly  urge.      The  king  is  fain  to  yield, 

And- David  forthwith  is  dismist  the  field. 

Thus  God,  when  he  his  saints  hath  throughly  try'd, 

Can  ways  unthought  for  their  escape  provide. 

CHAP.  IV. 

JOY  now  abounding  in  his  thankful  heart, 
Jesse's  fair  son  doth  from  the  camp  depart, 
And  towards  Ziklag,  with  a  nimble  pace, 
Marches,  his  loyal  consorts  to  embrace. 
But,  e'er  the  sun  thrice  set,  his  joy  was  check'd, 
By  a  disaster  he  did  least  expect. 

Approaching  near  the  place,  where  stood  the  town. 
To  his  surprise  he  found  it  levelPd  down, 
Burnt  to  the  ground,  and  in  its  ashes  laid, 
And  all  that  was  therein  away  convey'd. 
No  living  soul  was  left  that  might  inform 
Who  were  the  authors  of  this  dismal  storm. 

Who  can  conceive  the  horror  that  posoess'd 
On  that  afflicting  sight,  poor  David's  breast 
Amaz'd  he  stood,  like  one  that's  struck  with  thunder, 
Fill'd  with  astonishment,  and  silent  wonder. 
His  blood  retiring  to  his  trembling  Heart, 
Left  a  cold  sweat  upon  each  outward  part. 
Heart-rending  sorrows  did,  without  controi^l, 
Imprison  all  the  powers  of  his  soul, 
Grief  fore'd  a  vent  at  last,  and  out  did  pour, 
Thorough  his  fainting  eyes,  an  easing  show'r  ; 
Tears  flow'd  amain  :  he  wept  until  the  store 
Of  tears  was  6pent,  and  he  could  weep  no  more. 

G  2  When 


H  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III. 

When  sighs  did  passage  to  his  grief  afford, 
And  speech  was  to  his  fait 'ring  tongue  restor'  J. 
He  more  obdurate  must  have  been  than  stone, 
Whose  heart  had  not  been  tend'red  with  his  moan. 
The  loss  of  Ziklag  something  was  ;   much  more 
That  of  the  people,  with  their  wealthly  store  : 
But,  with  the  deepest  groans,  he  did  bewail 
His  lost  Ahinoam  and  Abigail. 
His  sorrow  to  compleat,  his  little  host 
(For  there  was  no  man  that  had  nothing  lost) 
Where  on  the  point  to  mutiny,  and  fall, 
With  stones,  upon  their  guiltless  general 

His  reason  now  did  to  return  begin,       * 
Out  of  that  stupor  grief  had  plung'd  it  in  ; 
And  calling  back,  with  nimble  diligence, 
His  spirits,  and  ills  intellect'al  sense  : 
His  piety  did  first  itself  exert, 
Sure  token  of  a  right  religious  heart. 
Fear,  bane  of  noble  actions,  off  he  shakes, 
And  in  the  Lord  his  God,  fresh  courage  takes. 
His  blood  enkindles,  and  his  spirits  boil 
With  strong  desire  to  rega;n  the  spoil, 
The  living  spoil  (if  life  did  yet  remain 
In  his  two  consorts,  ar.d  their  youthful  train) 
His  naming  eye  sparkles  in  angry  threat, 
And  just  revenge  his  active  pulses  beat. 
Yet  would  he  not  on  this  adventure  move, 
Till  he  had  try'd  how  God  would  it  approve. 
How  happy  should  we  be  !    how  would  success 
Crown  all  our  actions  !    how  would  heaven  bless 
Our  essays,  if  in  all  we  undertake, 
We  first  the  Lord  our  counsellor  would  make  ? 

The  priest  is  calPd.      The  sacred  ephod  broug  ht ; 
God's  counsel,  in  his  own  direction  sought  ; 
The  answer  is  propitious.      Out  he  went 
With  his  six  hundied  men.      Two  hundred  spe 
With  their  hard  march,  were  by  the  rest  forsook, 
Not  able  to  get  over  Besor-brook. 

Not 


Book'  III.  DAVIDE1S.  7* 

Not  far  had  David,  with  the  rest  advanc'd* 
When  an  Egyptian,  in  the  field,  they  chanc'd 
To  find  ;  who,  being  sick,  and  hunger  pia'd, 
Was  by  those  sacking  rovers  left  behind. 
Him  they  refreshed  with  long-wanted  food  ; 
And  by  him,  when  recover'd  understood, 
That  their  old  enemy,  th*  Amalekite, 
It  was,  had  done  them  this  so  great  despite. 
By  him. too,  oath  of  safety  first  being  giv'n, 
(Oaths  then  were  lawful,  by  the  God  of  heav'n) 
Was  David  guided  to  the  place,  where  they 
In  jovial  merriment  securely  lay. 
Of  Ziklag's  dainties  they  a  feast  had  made, 
And,  with  their  plunder,  drove  a  merry  trade  ', 
From  eating  they  to  dancing  fell,   and  drinking  ; 
How  soon  they  must  the  reckoning  pay,  not  thinking, 
When,  on  a  sudden,  David  in  doth  pour 
His  men  upon  them,  like  a  thunder  show'r. 

Could  you  observe  in  what  a  furious  way, 
A  lion  leaps  upon  his  trembling  prey  : 
So  on  th'  Amalekitcs,  the  Hebrews  flew, 
Than  lions  fiercer  ;  having  in  their  view 
Their  captiv'd  wives  and  children,  and  the  fire 
Of  smoaking  Ziklag.  to  inflame  their  Ire. 
The  slaughtered  till  the  next  day's  ev'ning  held, 
The  earth  with  slain  was  cover'd  ;  rivers  sweil'd 
With  blood  of  Amalek,   that  thither  ran  ; 
For  of  them  all  escaped  not  a  man, 
Except  four  hundred,  who  (perhaps  by  night) 
On  camels  mounted,  sav'd  themselves  by  flight. 

During  the  time  this  bloody  work  did  lost, 
The  captive  dames,  with  hands  and  eyes  up  cast, 
Implor'd  the  God  of  Israel  to  bless 
The  arms  of  their  deliverers  with  succes3. 
But  when  destroy'd  they  saw  their  enemies, 
Their  thankful  joy  break  through  their  sparklin^  e^es. 
And  as  Andromeda,  when  from  her  chain 
Reieas'd,  she  saw  the  frightful  monster  slain, : 

So 


74  D'AVIDEIS.  Book  III. 

So  look'd  Ahinoam,  so  Abigail, 

When  they  their  dearest  David  saw  prevail. 

The  slaughter  over,  and  the  field  now  clear' d, 
So  that  no  living  enemy  appeared  ; 
The  victors,  and  their  new  redeemed  dames 
(Those  love,  these  love  and  gratitude  inflames^ 
Together  run,  with  nimble-footed  paces 
And  clasp  each  other,  in  most  sweet  embraces. 
When  they  had  paid  the  debt  long  due  to  love, 
The  Hebrew  captain  did  from  thence  remove  : 
And  toward  Ziklag  took  again  his  way, 
With  his  recovered  spoil,  and  with  the  p;-ey 
Of  Amalek.     To  Besor-brook  they  bend, 
Where  his  recruited  men  did  him  attend. 
To  them,  as  to  the  rest,  he  doth  divide 
Their  share  o'  th'  booty,  and  to  Ziklag  hy'd  : 
From  whence  he,  of  the  spoil,  unto  his  friends, 
In  all  the  coasts  about,  rich  presents  sends. 

CHAP.  IV. 


TWO  days  in  Ziklag  now  had  David  stay'd, 
To  view  the  rums  which  the  fire  had  made  y 
But  most  his  thoughts  on  Israel's  camp  did  run, 
And  fear'd  the  worst ;   not  knowing  what  was  done  ; 
When  on  the  third,  lo,  one  with  running  spent, 
(Earth  on  his  head,  and  all  his  garments  rent) 
Came  from  the  camp,  and  falling  at  his  feet, 
Did  with  good  news,  as  he  suppos'd,  him  greet. 

He  told,  how  Israel  from  the  battle  fled  ; 
That  of  the  soldiers  multitudes  were  dead  : 
That  Saul,  and  Jonathan  his  son,  were  slain. 
At  those  great  names,  David  could  not  refrain, 
But  forthwith  ask'd  him,  by  what  means  he  knew 
What  he  reported  of  Saul's  death  was  true. 
He,  hoping  some  advantage  would  accrue, 
Confessed  his  prince,  at  his  request  he  slew  : 

Ai 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  75* 

And  to  confirm  the  truth  of  what  he  said, 
Saul's  crown  and  bracelet  at  his  feet  he  laid, 

As  one  that  stooping  something  up  to  take, 
Claps  his  unwary  hand  upon  a  snake. 
Doth  with  a  sudden  fright,  first  backward  start 
(His  scared  blood  retiring  to  his  heart) 
Then,  at  a  further  distance,  trembling  stands, 
With  fainting  countenance,  and  palsied  hands  ; 
So  startled  David  at  th'  unlook'd  for  sight 
Of  that  which  some  would  gaze  on  with  delight, 
Th'  imperial  crown  ;  by  which  he  surely  knew, 
That  what  the  fellow  told  him  was  too  true. 
Grief  seiz'd  his  spirit.      He  with  garments  torn, 
Together  with  his  men,  for  Saul  did  mourn. 
For  Saul  he  mourn'd,  though  Saul  to  him  had  been 
A  fiercer  foe,  than  any  Philistine. 

For  Saul  he  mourn'd,  though  Saul  his  life  had  sought, 
And  him  into  extremest  dangers  brought. 
For  Saul  he  mourn'd,  though  by  the  death  of  Saul, 
He  knew  the  kingdom  unto  him  would  fall. 
Thus  gen'rous  minds,  e'en  with  their  enemies, 
In  adverse  fortunes  can't  but  sympathize, 

For  Jonathan  as  for  an  only  brother. 
Or  as  a  virgin  for  her  constant  lover  : 
So  mourned  he.      For  'twixt  them  two  had  past 
A  friendship,  tfeat  beyond  the  grave  mart  last. 
Immortal  friendship  !    never  two  were  twin'd 
More  close  ;  they  had  two  bodies  ;  but  one  mind, 
Patrocles  to  Achilles  was  less  dear; 
Hylas  to  Hercules  not  half  so  near. 
Not  Pylades  did  more  Orestes  love  : 
Nor  Damon  to  his  Pythias  truer  prove. 
To  Pirithous  more  close  not  Theseus 
Did  cleave  ;  nor  Nisus  to  Euryalus  ; 
Than  did  to  David  princely  Jonathan, 
From  the  blest  day  their  friendship  first  began,    ^ 
Their  souls  were  so  commix'd,  that  none  could  teh 
ich  lov'd  most  truly  ;  either  lov'd  so  well. 

J©na$&n'* 


76  DAVIDEIS.  Book  Iff. 

Jonathan's  love  to  David  strongly  ran, 
And  David's  flow'd  as  strong  to  Jonathan. 
So  that,  e'en  yet,  we,  in  a  proverb  have  it, 
(Strong  as  the  loves  of  Jonathan  and  David) 
'Twas  for  his  friend  ;  for  such  a  friend,  as  man 
Scarce  had  before  :   'Twas  for  his  Jonathan 
That  David  moum'd.     And  who  enough  could  moan 
The  death,  untimely  death,  of  such  a  one. 
But,  from  particulars,  his  grief  did  call 
To  mourning,  for  the  tribes'  in  general. 
The  house  of  Israel"  was  wounded  deep, 
What  Israelite  could  hear  it,  and  not  weep  ! 
Not  weep  a  flood  !   the  people  of  the  Lord 
Are  fallen  by  the  uncircumcised's  sword. 
This  to  his  sorrow  set  the  flood  gates  ope, 
And  to  his  melting  grief  gave  boundless  scd*pe. 
-  Nor  would  his  single  sorrow  serve  the  turn, 
Bur   -1!  his  men  together  with  him  mourn. 
Saul  s  death  and  Jonathan's  he  did  not  fail, 
In  most  pathetick  language  to  bewail : 
But  sure*  the  stifling  grief,  that  filPd  his  breast 
For  Isr'el,  could  not  be  in  words  exprest. 

When  sorrow  now  its  force  had  somewhat  spent, 
And  flowing  tears  to  grief  had  given  vent, 
The  messenger  who  did  the  tidings  bring, 
Having  contest  that  he  did  kill  the  king, 
Was,  self-convi6ted,  unto  death  appointed, 
And  kill'd,  for  having  slain  the  Lord's  anointed. 
That  Justice  done,  David  from  Ziklag  rose, 
By  God's  direction  ;  and  to  Hebron  goes* 

CHAP.  V. 


HAIL  !   noble  hero,  favourite  of  heaven, 
To  whom  a  royal  diadarais  given  ! 
Welcome  to  Hebron  !   lo,  thy  people  bring 
Their  presents  to  their  new-elected  king, 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  77 

•    No  sooner  was  it  known,  that  Jesse's  son 
Had  Ziklag  left,  and  was  to  Hebron  gone  ; 
But  Judah's  nobles  thither  did  resort : 
And,  with  a  splendid  train,  did  fill  his  court. 
Judah,  the  tribe  to  which  he  did  belong  : 
Judah,  the  tribe  of  all  the  tribes  most  strong. 

The  men  of  Judah,  as  with  one  consent, 
From  all  their  cities  unto  Hebron  went. 
They  went,  with  hearts  full  of  affection  freight, 
His  safe  arrivai  to  congratulate. 
No  sooner  met,  but  David  they  instal 
King  over  Judah  in  the  room  of  Saul. 
The  sacred  oil  they  on  his  temples  shed, 
And  set  the  imperial  crown  upon  his  head. 
The  court  they  make  and  all  the  city  ring 
With  joyful  acclamations  to  their  king. 

Scarce  were  the  coronation  triumphs  o'er, 
Scarce  the  new  king  his  diadem  had  wore  ; 
When  he  again  must  draw  his  late  sheath'd  sword, 
Short  are  the  joys  external  things  afford. 

A  son  of  Saul's  surviv'd  his  father's  death, 
Twice  twenty  years  of  age,  nam'd  Ishbosheth. 
Him  Abner  did  to  Mahanaim  brhig, 
And  o'er  the  house  of  Isr'el  made  him  king. 

Thus  Israel  and  Judah  were  divided, 
Whilst  either  party  with  their  own  king  sided. 
Hence  civil  Avars  between  the  tribes  arose, 
And  former  friends  degen'rate  into  foes. 
They  that  were  link'd  by  nature,  and  by  grace, 
Each  other  now  in  hostile  manner  chase  ; 
The  sword  devoureth  kin  on  either  side, 
And  Hebrews  hands  in  Hebrews  blood  are  dy'd. 

When  long  these  hateful  civil  wars  had  lasted. 
And  Israel's  strength  was  thereby  greatly  wasted, 
(For  weaker  grew  the  hfluse  of  Saul,  the  longer 
Tii."  w*ar  endur'd,  and  David's  house  grew  stronger) 

i  awful  providence,  by  means  unthought, 
Tlit.war,,  and  faction,  to  a  period  brought. 

To 


*78  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III. 

To  Rizpah,  who  had  been  Saul's  concubine, 
'Twas  thought  that  Abner  did  too  much  incline  ; 
This  Ishbosheth  resenting  with  disdain, 
Charg'd  Abner  that  with  Rizpah  he  had  lain. 
High-stomach'd  Abner,  who  could  nothing  brook 
That  touch'd  his  honour,   such  displeasure  took 
At  this  reproach,  that  he  resolv'd  to  bring 
All  Israel  over  unto  Judah's  king. 
Nor  would  he  in  a  covert  manner  go 
To  work  :  but  boldly  told  his  master  so. 
Forthwith  to  David  messengers  he  sent 
To  make  his  peace  ;  and  then  in  person  went 
To  Hebron  ;  after  he  had  first  inclin'd 
The  Isr'elitish  princes  to  his  mind. 

Him  David  graciously  receiv'd,  and  made 
A  royal  entertainment  while  he  staid  ; 
And  then  in  peace  dkmiss'd  him,  to  effect 
The  grand  affair  which  Abner  did  proje6t. 

Not  f;r  from  Hebron  yet  was  Abner  gone 
When  Joab  enter'd  (David's  sister's  son) 
Who,  on  some  military  enterprize, 
Had  absent  been,  against  the  enemies, 
With  David's  men  of  war  (for,  over  all 
His  uncle's  forces  he  was  general) 
And  having  given  his  enemy  the  foil, 
Was  just  returned  laden  with  the  spoil. 

When  Joab  heard  that  Abner  had  been  there 
Receiv'd  and  sent  away  again  with  care, 
His  passion  rose  so  high,  it  made  him  fling 
Undutiful  reflections  on  his  king. 
Zeal  he  pretended  for  his  prince's  state  ; 
But  underneath  did  lurk  revenge  and  hate, 
For  'twas  not  long  before,  at  Gibeon  fight, 
That  Abner  and  his  men  being  put  to  flight, 
Asahel,  Joab's  brother,  him  so  hard 
Pursu'd,  that  Abner,  standing  on  his  guard, 
Ir's  own  defence,  and  sore  against  his  will, 
To  save  himself,  was  fore'd  the  youth  to  kill, 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS. 

His  brother's  blood,  in  Joab's  eye  still  reeks, 
And  he  a  season  to  revenge  it  seeks, 

He  after  Abner  sends,  in  David's  name 
(Unknown  to  David)   to  return. — He  came. 
Deceitful  Joab  receiv'd  him  at  the  gate, 
(With  feigned  kindness,  hiding  inward  hate) 
'  As  if  he  had  some  secret  to  impart, 
Took  him  aside,  and  stabb'd  him  to  the  heart. 

Thus  fell  the  valiant  Abner,  thus  did    lie 
A  brave  commander,  through  base  treachery. 
Thus  princely  Joab  did  his  honour  stain 
With  Abner' s  noble  blood,  ignobly  slain. 

When  unto  David's  ear  the  news  was  brought, 
Of  the  foul  murder,  by  his  nephew  wrought. 
It  pierc'd  his  royal  heart  :   apt  words  he  lack'd 
To  speak  his  just  abhorrence  of  the  fa£t  : 
Yet,  in  unstrained  terms,  himself  he  freed 
From  being  conscious  of  so  foul  a  deed. 

"  I,  and  my  kingdom,  guiltless  are,  he  said, 
"   Of  Abner's  blood  ;   on  Joab  be  it  laid  ! 
*'  And  may  it  on  his  house  for  ever  rest  ! 
"  May  sword  or  famine  him  and  his  infest ! 
<l  May  his  posterity  be  never  free 
"  From  leprous  ulcer,  or  infirmity  ! 

Then  for  the  funeral  he  order  gave, 
And  wept  a  show'r  of  tears  on  Abner's  grave  ; 
Joab  to  rend  his  cloaths,  he  did  command, 
And  at  the  grave,   begirt  with  sackcloth,  stand. 
After  the  bier  himself  in  mourning  went, 
And,  in  an  elegy,  his  grief  did  vent ; 
The  people  join  their  tears  ;  o'er  Abrrer  weep, 
And,  for  his  death,  a  solemn  mourning  keep. 


CHAP. 
H 


80  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III. 


CHAP.  VI. 

TOO  late  did  Ishbosheth  his  error  find, 
In  having  alienated  Abner's  mind 
From  his  affairs  ;  too  late  did  he  repent 
His  hasty  rashness,  when  he  saw  th'  event. 

*Twas,  not  without  good  cause,  that  nature  set 
A  double  guard  before  the  tongue  ;  and  yet 
That  nimble  member   ('tis  too  often  found) 
Nor  lips,  nor  teeth  can  keep  within  its  bound  : 
But  out  it  breaks.      A  few  unwary  words 
More  mischief  do,  than  twice  as  many  swords, 
Saul's  inconsiderate  son,   'tis  like,  ne'er  thought 
His  taunt  would  such  a  dire  effect  have  wrought* 
But  martial  spirits  no  affront  can  brook. 
That  on  their  honour,  like  a  stain  doth  look. 
And  therefore  even  kings  themselves  had  need, 
How  they  their  subjects  disoblige,  take  heed. 

When  fame  had  sounded  Abner's  hasty  death 
Into  the  ears  of  drooping  Ishbosheth, 
A  trembling  seiz'd  him,  and  his  spirits  fail  ; 
His  hands  grew  feeble,  and  his  face  grew  pale  ; 
And  he,  though  yet  no  danger  did  appear, 
Himself  abandon'd  to  unmanly  fear  ; 
This  abject  mind  made  some  neglect  him  more, 
Who  did  not  over  value  him  before. 

Two  sons  of  R-immon    (the  Beerothite, 
The  off-spring  of  the  wily  Gibeonite) 
Were  under  Ishbosheth,  in  some  command  ; 
Each  was,  peihaps,  the  captain  of  a  band; 
Ti  cr.c,    by  some  means,  intelligence  had  got, 
Tl       Isr'ePs  princes  a  revolt  did  plot, 
And  hoping  to  advance  their  fortunes  higher, 
For  David,    did  against  their  lord  conspire. 
•  prince  in  to  his  chamber  had  retir'd 
.  at  noon,  the  sultry  clime  required  : 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  81 

And,  being  both  with  heat  and  grief  oprest, 

Had  thrown  himself  upon  his  bed  to  rest. 

The  resolute  assassins  thither  came 

(One  Baanah  stil'd,   Rechab  the  other's  name.) 

Poor  Ishbosheth,  asleep  supinely  lay  ; 

Him  on  his  bed,  the  traitors  basely  slay , 

Then,  from  his  bleeding  corps,  his  head  they  take  ; 

And,  thro'  the  plain,  with  speed  for  Hebron  make. 

Arriv'd,  to  David  forthwith  they  address, 
And  in  such  terms  as  these,  themselves  express, 
Behold,  great  prince,  the  head  of  Ishbosheth, 
The  son  of  Saul,  thy  foe,  who  sought  thy  death. 
And  instantly  the  mangled  head  they  shew'd, 
A  ghastly  sight,  in  purple  gore  imbru'd  ! 
The  sight  struck  horror  in  the  standers  by, 
But  indignation  flam'd  in  David's  eye. 
He  paus'd  ;  then  with  a  tone  that  made  them  quake, 
To  this  effect,  he  to  the  traitors  spake. 

"  As  the  Lord  lives  who  hath  my  soul,  laith  he, 
"   Redeemed  out  of  all  adversity 
4*  When  one  to  Ziklag  came,  and  tidings  brought 
**  That  Saul  was  dead   (who,  for  his  tidings  thought, 
"  He  at  my  hand,  a  good  reward  should  gain ) 
"  I  caus'd  him  to  be  seized  on,  and  slain. 
u  How  much  more  then,  when  wicked  men  have  sfaec! 
*'  A  righteous  person's  blood,  upon  his  bed, 
M  In  his  own  house  :   shall  I  not  now  require 
"  Of  you  his  blood  ;  and  make  your  death  ycur  hire  :"' 

This  said,  at  his  command,   his  ready  guard 
The  treason,  with  the  traitors  death,  reward. 
Their  hands  and  feet  cut  off,   upon  a  spear 
Were  hang'd  in  public,  to  make  others 
This  justice  done  to  Ishbosheth,  his  head 
In  Abner's  sepulchre  was  buried. 

The  Isr'elitish  elders,  who  before 
To  David  did  incline,  do  now  much  more. 
Their  way  is  open'd  by  th'  untimely  death 
Of  their  own  king,  unhappy  Ishbosheth* 

•       Their 


32  DAVIDEIS.  Book  Iff. 

"heir  Journey  tlierefore  they  to  Hebron  take, 
And  to  this  purpose  unto  David  spake. 

Behold,  great  prince,  thy  bone  and  flesh  are  we; 
And  e'en  while  Saul  was  king,  yet  thou  wast  he 
That  led  us  out,  and  brought  us  in  again  : 
Be  pleased  therefore  over  us  to  reign, 
For  God  hath  said,  thou  shalt  my  people  feed  : 
And  be  a  captain  over  Isr'el's  seed. 

Their  message  David,  with  majestic  grace, 
Receiv'd  and  all  the  elders  did  embrace. 
A  solemn  league  before  the  Lord  they  make, 
That  he  not  them,  nor  they  should  him  forsake. 
Then  forth  the  consecrated  oil  they  bring, 
And  over  Israel  anoint  him  king. 
AH  hearts  are  glad.     Joy  reigns  in  ev'ry  eye, 
Which  shouts,  and  public  triumphs,  testify. 
The  vocal  Nymph  the  news  to  fame  reports, 
"Whose  trumpet  sounds  it  into  foreign  courts. 

When  the  Solemnities  were  at  an  end, 
Which  on  the  coronation  did  attend, 
And  all  things  settled  ;  the  twice  crowned  king 
A  royal  army  to  the  field  did  bring  : 

.■with  th'  insulting  Jebu sites  he  beat, 
And  made  Jerusalem  his  royal  seat  ; 
The  Philistines  he  smote,  who  were  so  bold, 
To  co-.vj  and  brave  him,  even  in  his  hold. 
The  Moabites  he  fully  did  subdue, 
And  mighty  Hadadezer  overthrew. 
The  Edomites  he  tributary  made, 
And  Syria  having  smarted,  was  afraid. 
Abusive  Ammon  he  chastis'd,  and  tam'd, 
And,  for  his  prowess,  through  "the  east  was  fan 

And  yet  not  more  for  that,  than  for  his  love 
To  Jonathan,  which  did  itself  approve 
J.onrr  after  Jonathan,  unhappy  prince. 
In  battle  fell ;  not  for  his  own  offence, 
But  for  his  father's.      Friendship  that  is  brave 
Doth  death  survive  ;  and  lives  beyond  the  grave. 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS. 

David,  now  having  got  a  little  rest, 
Bethinks  him  how  his  love  may  be  exprest 
To  Jonathan,  his  dear  deceased  friend, 
In  his  posterity  :  and,  to  that  end, 
Enquires,  if  any  yet  remain 'd  of  all 
Descended  from  the  family  of  Saul, 
To  whom  he,  for  the  sake  of  Jonathan, 
Might  kindness  shew.      They  call  to  mind  a  man 
Whose  name  was  Ziba  :  him  they  seek,  and  bring- 
To  court  ;  and  straightway  he  inform'd  the  king- 
That  Jonathan  had  yet  a  son,  by  name 
Mephibosheth,  who  of  his  feet  was  lame. 
For  he,  poor  child,  when  tidings  came  that  Saul 
And  Jonathan  were  slain,  receiv'd  a  fall 
Out  of  his  nurse's  arms  ;  when,  in  the  fright, 
She  sought  to  save  him  by  too  hasty  flight, 
By  which  disaster  he,  alas  !   became 
A  cripple  ever ;  both  his  feet  were  lame. 

Him  David  sent  for  ;  and,  with  special  grace- 
Receiving,  did  at  his  own  table  place  : 
Assuring  him,  he,  for  his  father's  sake, 
Like  care  of  him,  as  of  his  own  would  take. 
Then  all  his  grandfather's  and  father's  lands 
Restoring  to  him  :  Ziba  he  commands 
To  take  the  charge  thereof ;  the  land  to  till, 
And  make  the  best  oft,  to  his  utmost  skill  j 
And  bring  the  profits  to  his  master's  son, 
That  he,  in  handsome  port,  might  live  thereon. 

Mephibosheth,  with  kindness  overcome, 
Though  lame  in  feet,  was  neither  rude,  nor  durnjp, 
But,  both  by  gesture,  and  expression,  shew'd 
The  highest  marks  of  humble  gratitude. 


H  2 


84  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III. 

CHAP.  VII. 

THE  highest  pitch  of  honour  now  attain'd 
By  David,  and  the  sov'reign  power  gain'd  J 
Thrice  had  the  consecrating  oil  been  shed, 
In  solemn  wise,  on  his  majestick  head. 
His  temples  cincturd  with  a  double  crown, 
The  house  of  Saul,  his  rivial  quite  brought  down, 
His  enemies  of  him  did  stand  in  awe, 
And  to  his  Neighbours  round  he  gave  the  law. 
His  arms  brought  conquest  home.      His  very  name 
Struck  terror,  where  his  armies  never  came. 
Secure  he  sat,  upon  his  awful  trigone  : 
By  others  fear'd  :  beloved  by  his  own. 
All  things,  to  make  him  happy,  did  conspire, 
in  want  of  nothing  reason  could  desire. 

But  how  unsafe  is  greatness  !   ah,  how  nigh 
Unto  prosperity  doth  danger  lie  ! 

'ling  pleasures  do  on  grcatnesss  wait, 
ice  still  lurking  lies  at  pleasure's  gate. 
If  in  it  slips  (and  hard  it  is,   I  doubt, 
Where  pleasures  have  free  course,  to  keep  it  out) 
Virtue  it  doth  insensibly  destroy, 
And  brings  forth  treble  grief  for  single  joy. 
This  David  found  ;  and  e'er  he  was  aware, 
taken  and  betray 'd  in  pleasure's  snare. 

It  came  to  pass,  one  evening,  when  the  heat 
ited  was  (which,  in  that  clime,  was  great) 
That  David  from  his  easeful  bed  arose  ; 
And  to  his  palace  roof  for  air  he  goes. 
There  walking  to  and  fro,  his  wand'ring  eye 
A  naked  woman,  bathing,  did  espy. 

The  sight  surpriz'd  him.     Yet  he  pleasure  took,, 
On  that  aitraclive  object  still  to  look  : 
For  scarcely  had  he*  seen  so  fine  a  creature, 
For  shape,  complexion,  and  for  lovely  feature. 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  85 

Poor  David's  nature  now  set  all  on  fire, 
His  breast  enflaming  with  undue  desire, 
He  look'd  and  burnt ;  he  burnt  and  look'd  again, 
Nor  power  had  from  looking  to  refrain. 
His  eyes  betray 'd  his  heart.     Now  yield  lie  must 
Himself  a  captive  to  unruly  lust. 

Ah  !   how  unsafe  it  is  to  let  the  eye 
Into  the  privacies  o£  women  pry  ! 
How  dangerous  to  let  the  devil  catch  ! 
The  mind  a  roving,  from  its  inward  watch  ! 
David  was  guarded  strong  enough,  no  doubt, 
To  hinder  any  mischief  from  without, 
But  he  that  will  secured  be  from  sin, 
Must  keep  a  strict  and  constant  guard  within. 

Now  all  his  thoughts  poor  David  doth  employ, 
The  party  how  to  find,  and  to  enjoy.     $£** 
He  makes  inquiry  ;  and  doth  quickly  fmd 
One,  that  knew  both  the  woman,  and  his  mind. 
By  him  he  understood,  the  beauteous  dame 
Was  Ammiel's  daughter  :   Bathsheba  her  name. 
And  that  she  was  the  brave  "Uriah's  wife, 
(Uriah  lov'd  her  as  he  lov'd  his  life) 
This  known,  the  king,  impatient  of  delay, 
Sends  messengers  :   the  woman  they  betray, 
And  bring  her  to  him.      She  by  him  conceives-; 
And  then,  returning  home,  the  palace  leaves. 

How  miserable  is  that  prince's  state, 
On  whom  a  set  of  parasites  do  wait  ! 
How  sad  is  his  condition  who  must  trust 
Such  as  will  pander  to  his  lawless  lust. 
Had  they,  whom  David  sent  the  dame  to  bring, 
Been  worthy  of  a  place  about  a  king  ; 
They  would  have  run  the  hazard  of  his  blame, 
To  save  their  master  from  so  foul  a  shame. 
They  would  have  represented  to  his  view 
That  odious  evil  in  its  proper  hue.  4 
They  would  have  try'd  all  means  ;  have  strove,  have" 
',  rather  than  have  aded,  disobey'd.  [pray'^» 

But 


86  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III. 

But  ah  !   such  faithful  courtiers  are  as  rare, 
As  crows  in  streams,  or  fishes  in  the  air. 

No  help  from  his  had  David,  they  he  sent 
Were,  in  so  bad  a  work,   too  diligent. 
He  spake  the  word,  they  ran  ;  their  errand  tell : 
Prevail,  the  woman  bring  ;  by  her  he  fell, 
He  fell,  who  had  such  high  attainments  known, 
To  whom  such  special  favours  God  had  shown. 
He  who  so  late  before  the  ark  did  dance, 
Now  could  not  stand  against  a  woman's  glance. 
Surpriz'd  by  a  temptation,  down  he  fell ; 
Who  the  sweet  singer  was  of  Israel. 
He,  from  the  holy  path,  aside  did  start  ; 
Who  once  a  man  was  after  God's  own.  heart. 

Ah  !   who  can  hope,  when  such  men  fall,  to  stand 
V/ithout  an  eminent  supporting  hand  ! 
Our  life's  a  war  :   temptations  all  assail : 
And  without  strong  resistance,  will  prevail. 
Not  kings,  we  see,  can  stand  ;  however  good 
They  are,  when  once  they  yield  to  flesh  and  blood. 

After  fair  Bathsheba  had  been  at  home 
Time  long  enough  to  know,  her  fruitful  womb 
(By  which  she  was  not  apt  to  be  beguil'd) 
Gave  her  assurance,  that  she  was  with  child* 
Forthwith  she  private  notice  thereof  sent 
To  David  ;  public  scandal  to  prevent. 
This  put  poor  David  to  his  shifts  to  find 
How  he  the  husband,  and  the  world  might  blind. 

CHAP.  VIII. 


MEAN  while  Uriah  from  his  home  had  "been,. 
Seeking  immortal  fame,  by  arms  to  win. 
Him  David  strait *vay  sent  for  home,  that  he 
A  cloak  to  the 

Unthinking  that  he  thea  ;  -     .        .00  late, 
To  cover  an  amour  of  such  a  date. 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  87 

No  sooner  good  Uriah  did  receive 
The  king's  command  ;  but  forthwith  taking  leave 
Of  Joab,  to  the  court  his  course  he  bent, 
And  to  his  sovereign  did  himself  present, 
The  king  enquires  :   Uriah  doth  relate 
Both  Joab's  welfare,  and  the  army's  state. 

When  he  had  made  an  end,  and  night  came  on,    * 
The  king  (impatient  till  he  saw  him  gone) 
Dismist  him  ;   and  advis'd  him  haste  to  make 
Down  to  his  house  ;  and  there  refreshment  take. 

Then  from  his  presence  forth  Uriah  went ; 
And  after  him  a  royal  mess  was  sent  ; 
The  king  concluding  he  would  home  repair, 
Himself  to  solace  with  his  (faulty)  fair. 

No  farther  went  Uriah  than  the  gate 
Of  David's  house,  where  servants  us'd  to  wait  ; 
With  whom,  his  old  acquaintance,  he  consorts, 
And  unto  them  the  war's  success  reports. 
When  bed  time  came,  amongst  the  guards  he  kept, 
And  soldier-like,  amongst  the  soldiers  slept. 

Troubled  was  David,  when  he  heard,  by  some 
Next  morn,  Uriah  had  not  been  at  home. 
Yet  hiding  what  he  could,   his  discontent, 
He  for  Uriah  to  his  presence  sent : 
And  with  a  seeming  pity,  when  he  came, 
Him,  in  such  words  as  these,  did  gently  blame  : 

"  What- was  the  matter,  over-hardy  knight, 
"   Thou  wentest  not  down  unto  thy  house  last  night ; 
"  Cam'st  thou  not  from  the  journey,  tir'd  and  spent  ? 
"  Why  art  thou  of  thy  thyself  so  negligent  ? 
"  I  thought  thou  might'st  have  borne  a  bed  less  hard, 
"  Than  are  the  matted  benches  of  my  guard. 
"  I  therefore  sent  thee  home,  to  take  thy  rest, 
"  Where  I  suppos'd  thou  might  enjoy  it  best. 
"   Hereafter  of  thyself  more  careful  be, 
u  Thou  thinks  not  what  thy  loss  would  be  to  me." 

With  humble  thanks,  Uriah  thus  reply'd, 
Isr'el  and  Judah,  with  the  ark  abide 

la 


?8  DAVIDELS.  Book  III, 

In  tents  :  lord  Joab  lieth,  with  his  men, 
In  open  fields  encamped.  •    Shall  I  then 
Go  to  my  house  to  eat,  and  merry  make, 
And  pleasure  in  my  wife's  embraces  take  ? 
The  Lord  forbid  !   as  lives  thy  soul,  O  king, 
I  will  not  be  persuaded  to  this  thing  ; 
I  shun  whatever  courage  would  abate, 
Soft  pleasures  do  the  mind  effeminate. 

Thus  spake  Uriah.   „  And  let  none  suppose 
It  dropp'd  by  chance  ;  or  from  a  soldier  rose  : 
But  needfully  observe  it,  with  an  eye, 
That  can,  through  words,  a  providence  descry. 
For  God  was  hedging  David's  way  about  ; 
That  David's  guilt  might,  to  his  shame  break  out. 

When  David  had  Uriah's  answer  weigh'd, 
He  plainly  saw,  unless  he  were  betray'd, 
He  never  shoi.ld  by  him  efiect  the  end, 
For  which  he  for  him.,  from  the  camp,  did  send. 
New  measures  therefore  David  r.cw  doth  take  : 
Contrives  how  he  Uriah  drunk  may  make  ; 
Looks  on  him  with  a  more  familiar  face  ; 
And  now  receives  him  into  special  grace. 
So  stems  he  in  Uriah  to  take  delight, 
i  f  he  were  the  only  favourite. 

His  feigned  kindness  quickly  grew  so  great, 
That  now  Uriah  must  with  David  eat. 
He  makes  him  drink,  and  drink,  and  drink  ag 
Till*  with  rich  wines,  he  overcharg'd  his  brain. 
Thus  sin  to  sin,  thus  guilt  he  adds  to  guilt  : 
Nor  stops  until  Uriah's  blood  be  spilt.  «.* 

ts  the  allow'd  commis  ion  of  a  si  i, 
Net  5  to  let  another  in. 

i  now  is  drunk  ;  the  grapy  juice 
Hath  cf  his  reason  robb'd  him  of  the  use. 
\VTtl  am'd,  who  would  have  tho't 

But  he  his  wife's  embraces  would  have  sought  ? 

:  neither  drunk  nor  sober,  could  he  be 
Peimiaded  either  house,  or  wife  to  see.  , 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  89 

But  with  the  guards  at  night  again  he  lay  ; 
And  snoring  slept  his  drunkenness  away. 

The  king  now  hopeless,  and  enraged  to  think 
That  neither  by  his  flattery  nor  drink, 
He  could  his  end  obtain  ;  and  harder  grown 
(For  sin  repeated,  hardens  any  one) 
Resolves  at  last,  a  desp'rate  course  to  try ; 
And  murder  join  unto  adultery.  , 
No  way  to  save  his  honour  did  remain, 
He  thought,  unless  he  got  Uriah  slain. 
For  since  he  found  that,  not  by  any  wile, 
He  the  resolv'd  Uriah  could  beguile  : 
He  saw  that,  if  he  suffer'd  him  to  live, 
He  never  would  the  injury  forgive  : 
But,  if  not  seek  revenge,  at  least  proclaim 
The  wrong  he  suffer'd  ;  and  his  princes  shame. 
Thus  reason'd  David  ;  on  this  policy 
The  king  concludes,  Uriah  needs  must  die. 
He,  that  had  suffer'd  too  much  wrong  before, 
Lest  that  discover'd  be,  must  suffer  more. 
Uriah's  guiltless  blood  must  now  be  spilt, 
To  make  a  covering  for  David's  guilt. 
But  oh  !   the  guilt  of  guiltless  blood  thus  shed, 
Will  fall,  with  treble  weight,  on  David's  head. 
All  !   what  is  man,  the  best  of  men  when  left 
Unto  himself,  of  grace  divine  bereft  ! 

To  Joab  David  doth  a  letter  write, 
Commanding  him  that  in  the  hottest  fight 
He  should  Uriah,  in  the  fore-front,  place  ; 
And,  when  he  is  engag'd,  retire  a-pace  : 
Leaving  him  single  in  the  open  plain, 
That,  by  the  enemy,  he  may  be  slain. 

The  letter  which  contain'd  this  dire  command, 
Is  sent  to  Joab,  by  Uriah's  hand  ; 
Uriah,  void  of  jealousy  and  fear, 
fatal  Letter  doth  to  Joab  bear, 

own  death  the  instrument  he's  made, 
-asily  is  innoceacy  betray 'd  ! 


00  DAVIDEIS.  Book  HL 

So  when  Bellephoron,  whose  milder  fate 
Did  unto  him  prove  more  propitiate. 

When  Joab  understood  his  master's  mind, 
He  to  Uriah  such  a  place  assign'd, 
Where,  by  experience,  he  before  had  found 
Were  valiant  men  that  would  defend  their  ground, 
Then  falling  back,  there  left  them  to  maintain 
The  fight  alone  ;  so  was  Uriah  slain. 

Thus  the  brave  Hittite,  by  a  plot  fore  laid, 
Valiantly  ii gluing,  basely  was  betray 'd. 
The  first,  perhaps,  that  ever  lost  his  life. 
Tor  not  embracing  his  most  beauteous  wife. 

With  speed  Uriah's  death  is  signify'd 
To  David,  who  his  joy  could  hardly  hide. 
Uriah's  widow,  when  she  heard  the  news, 
Put  on  the  mourning  weeds  that  widows  use, 
And  mourn'd  the  time.     Then  David  took  the  dame 
Home  to  his  house  ;  and  she  his  wife  became. 
Nor  was  it  long  before  she  bore  a  son 
But  God  was  sore  displeased  with  what  was  done, 

CHAP  IX. 

NOW  all  was  hush'd  and  still.      Uriah  dead, 
His  wife  translated  to  king  David's  bed. 
No  more  by  stealth  ;  but  now  with  open  face, 
The  \c,\  iji  king  doth  Bathsheba  embrace. 
Before  his  courtiers  doth  her  court,  and  kiss  : 
And",   without  blushing,  dares  to  call  her  his. 
Uriah's  b'k.od  tli'  adult'ry  out  did  blot, 
And  hew  chat  blood  was  shed  is  now  forgot. 
Dissoh'o  i:  melting  pleasures  David  lies, 
And  fivm  th'  Avenger,  in  himself,  he  flies. 

Remorse  was  lost.      Hardness  had  enter' d  in, 
Sensur.l  de3         i  drown'd  the  sense  of  sin. 

But  David  s  Goc    (u,e  God  who  David  chose, 
And  David  lov'd)  would  not  his  David  lose. 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  91 

For  though  a  strong-  temptation  had  prevaiPd 
And  David,  sway'd  thereby,  had  grosly  fail'd  : 
Yet  he,  who  hearts  doth  search,  and  reins  doth  try. 
Saw  yet  in  David  a  sincerity. 

A  prophet  therefore  God  did  send  to  rouze 
The  stupid  king  from  his  lethargick  drowze. 

O  boundless  goodness  !    O  unmeasur'd  love  ! 
Which  did  the  bowels  of  the  father  move 
Towards  his  erring  child.      He  condescends  : 
And  the  first  motion  makes,  for  being  friends. 
Th*  offended  uses  means,  to  raise  a  sense 
In  the  offender,  of  his  foul  offence  : 
That,  on  repentance,  he  may  mercy  show  : 
And  reconciliation  thence  may  flow. 

Th'  inspired  prophet,  thus  to  David  sent, 
Did,  by  a  harmless  wile,  him  circumvent  : 
And  having  in  a  parable  him  caught, 
The  king  to  be  his  own  condemner  brought. 

"  Two  men,  said  he,  did  in  one  city  dwell  : 
"   One  very  poor,   and  one  in  wealth  did  swell ; 
"  The  rich,  of  flocks  and  herds  had  plenteous  store, 
"  The  poor  man  had,  in  all  the  world  no  more 
*s  But  one  small  ewe-lamb,  which  he  bought  and  fed> 
"  And  choicely,  with  his  children,  nourished. 
"  Of  his  own  cup  it  drank  ;  and  for  its  meat, 
"  He  grudg'd  it  not  the  same  himself  did  eat. 
**  "He  let  it  in  his  bosom  lie  at  night  : 
"  For,  as  a  daughter,  'twas  his  chief  delight. 
u  Now  when  a  stranger  to  the  rich  man  came 
"  To  visit  him  ;  so  void  was  he  of  shame, 
*'  That  sparing  all  his  own,  he  took  and  drest 
"  The  poor  man's  lamb,  to  entertain  his  guest." 

With  stricl  attention  did  King  David  hear 
The  prophet's  tale.     Then  made  it  soon  appear, 
How  quick,  his  sense  was  of  the  poor  man's  wrong  : 
And  what  to  the  rich  oppressor  did  belong. 
Against  the  man  his  hot  displeasure  brake, 
And  to  prophet  Nathan  thus  he  spake  : 

I  **  As 


92  DAVIDEIS.  Book  III. 

"  As  lives  the  Lord,  let  him  be  e'er  so  high, 
"  The  man,  that  this  hath  done,  shall  surely  die. 
"  Nay  death  shall  not  suffice,  but  furthermore, 
"  He  four  times  over  shall  the  lamb  restore  : 
"   Because  that,  having  plenty  of  his  own, 
"   He  did  this  thing,  and  hath  no  pity  shewn." 
So  spake  the  king.      But  little  thought,  alas  1 
That  he  the  sentence  on  himself  did  pass. 

How  partial  is  the  nature  of  mankind  ! 
Quick-sighted  at  another's  fault  ;  but  blind 
Unto  our  own  !   ourselves  how  apt  to  spare, 
But  unto  others  how  severe  we  are  ! 
He  that  could,  with  an  over-hasty  breath, 
For  a  less  fault,  pronounce  another's  death  : 
Could  just  before  abuse  his  neighbour's  wife  ; 
And  him,  without  remorse,  deprive  of  life. 

No  sooner -<lid  the  heavy  sentence  come. 
From  David's  lips,  but  Nathan  set  it  home. 
Disguises  laid  aside,  the  seer  began  : 
Mv  message  is  to  thee. — Thou  art  the  man  ! 

How  great  was  now  the  guilty  king's  surprize  ) 
Might  ha\e  been  seen  in  his  dejected  eyes. 
His  conscious  blood  into  his  face  did  flush, 
And  brought  upon  his  cheeks  a  scarlet  blush  J 
Which  lasted  not,  but  in  a  while  did  fail ; 
And  was  succeeded  by  a  fainty  pale. 
As  if  the  guiltless  blood  he  lately  spilt, 
Had  thither  flow'd,  to  evidence  his  guilt. 
And  then  retiring,  back  again  had  fled, 
To  shew  the  stained  ground,  where  it  was  shed. 
A  great  disorder  in  his  face  appear d  ; 
As  well  from  what  he  felt,  as  what  he  fear'd  ; 
His  hair's,  like  one  that  had  the  palsy,  shook  ; 
His  trembling  knees  against  each  other  strook. 
Silent  he  sat  ;   his  spirit  almost  gone  : 
While  the  inspired  prophet  thus  went  on. 

"  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  the  God  of  Israel, 
"   (Who  in  most  awful  majesty  dcth  dwell) 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS.  93 

u  I  over  Isr'el  thee  appointed  king, 

**  And  out  of  all  thy  troubles  thee  did  bring. 

"  Out  of  the  hand  of  Saul  I  thee  did  save, 

"  And  unto  thee  thy  master's  house  I  gave. 

"  Into  thine  arms  thy  master's  wives  I  cast, 

"  And  to  thee  Isr'el  made,  and  Judah,  fast : 

**  And  if  all  this  had  been  too  small  a  store, 

u  T  would  have  added  such  and  such  things  more. 

"  Why  then  didst  thou  the  Lord's  command  despise, 

"  To  do  the  thing  that's  evil  in  his  eyes  ? 

"  Uriah  thou,  with  Amnon's  sword,  hast  slain, 

{t  And  with  his  wife,  as  with  thine  own,  hast  lain. 

"  Now,  therefore,  never  shall  thy  house  be  free 

**  From  sword  ;  because  thou  hast  despised  me  ; 

"   (Who,  from  the  sheep-cot,  set  thee  on  the  throne) 

"  And  took  Uriah's  wife  to  be  thy  own. 

"  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  behold,  I'll  evil  raise, 
"  Out  of  thy  house,  against  thee,  divers  .ways. 
"  Thy  wives,  before  thine  eves,  I'll  from  thee  take  ; 
*'  And  let  thy  neighbour  strumpets  of  them  make. 
"  He  with  thy  wives,  in  open  view,  sliall  lie  : 
"   Regardless  who  looks  on,  or  who  stands  by* 
"  Thou  secretly  hast  wrought,  and  in  the  dark, 
"  But  I  will  on  thee  set  a  public  mark. 
"  For  I  will  cause  this  justice  to  be  done 
Ai  Before  all  Isr'el,  and  before  the  Sun." 

This  said  the  prophet  stopp'd.     The  wounded  king, 
(Who  of  his  guilt  now  felt  the  piercing  sting) 
Defence  had  none  to  make  :  no  art  did  use, 
His  foul  offence  to  palliate,  or  excuse. 
But  fetching  from  his  very  inmost  part, 
A  doleful  groan,  which  seem'd  to  rend  his  heart ; 
His  quiv'ring  lips  let  fall  this  mournful  word, 
Ah  me  !    I  sinned  have  against  the  Lord  ; 
A  sigh  the  sentence  clos'd  ;  a  sigh  that  came 
So  warmly  out,  it  might  his  lips  inflame  : 
But  that  his  melting  eyes  a  plenteous  show'r 
Of  tears  upon  his  cheeks  and  beard  did  pour. 

i 


94  DAyiDEIS.  Book  III. 

Short  the  confession  was.      Yet  that  it  flow'd 
From  a  true  penitent,  the  accent  show'd. 
It  reach'd  the  prophet's  heart,  and  gain'd  belief 
Of  the  sincerity  of  David's  grief. 
For  God  repentance,  if  it  be  sincere, 
Accepts,  though  short  in  words,  it  doth  appear, 

Such  David's  was  ;  yet  was  it  not  in  vain, 
The  gladded  prophet  alter's  now  his  strain  ; 
And  with  an  healing  word,  doth  thus  begin  : 
"  The  Lord  hath  also  put  away  thy  sin  ; 
"  Thou  shalt  not  die."      Oh  !   who  would  be  so  base, 
To  sin  again  such  undeserved  grace  ! 
"   Howbeit  (thus  the  prophet  did  proceed) 
"  Because  thou  great  occasion,  by  this  deed, 
"  Has  given  wicked  men,  the  Lord  to  scorn  ; 
"  The  spurious  child,  who  unto  thee  is  born, 
"   Shall  surely  die,"  his  word  was  verify'd  : 
For,  on  the  seventh  day,  the  infant  dy'd. 

The  prophet  now,  his  message  fully  done, 
Had  left  the  king  ;  and  to  his  house  was  gone, 
But  what  he,  from  the  Lord,  had  to  him  said, 
On  David's  heart  a  deep  impression  made. 
His  conscience,  which  before  did  slumb'ring  lye, 
Now,  throughly  waken'd,  in  his  face  did  fly, 
And  charg'cl  him  home.      He  felt  the  wounds  within,, 
Which,  on  his  bleeding  hear!:,  were  made  by  sin. 

Ah  !   who  his  grinding  sorrows*  can  express  ! 
Or  speak  the  hundreth  part  of  his  distress  ! 
His  galling  grief,  his  r/rty-rnovings  moans  ! 
His  deep-fetch'd  signs  and  his  heart-rending  groans  ! 
Himself,  we  find,  could  not  deliver  these, 
Without  the  help  of  great  hyperboles. 

Hew  earnest  was  he  !    with  what  fervency, 
Unto  his  God,  did  he  for  pardon  cry  ! 
"  Have  mercy  on  me,   O  my  God,  he  cry'd  : 
"  And  for  my  sins  thy  face,  not  from  me,  hide, 
«  Purge  me  with  Hyssop,  cleanse  me  from  my  sin  : 
"  And  wash  me  throughly,  from  all  guilt,  within. 


Book  III.  DAVIDEIS,  95 

"  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  and  renew 
"  Within  me,  Lord,  a  spirit  right  and  true. 
"  O  from  thy  presence  cast  me  not  away , 
"  Nor  take  thy  spirit  from  me,  Lord,  I  pray. 
i(  With  thy  free  spirit  me  uphold.      Restore 
"  The  joy  of  thy  salvation,  as  before." 

Such  moving  supplications  day  and  night 
Did  he  pour  forth  ;  which  I  nor  can  recite, 
Nor  need  ;  for  he  hath  couch'd  them  in  such  verse, 
As  my  short  winded  muse  cannot  rehearse. 
Suffice  it  therefore,  that  the  reader  know, 
He  did  not  pray  in  vain  ;  but  prayed  so, 
That  he  not  only  pardon  did  obtain  ; 
But  his  lost  favour  did  with  God  regain. 
God  grant,  whoever  sins  like  him,  may  be 
As  true  a  contrite  penitent,  as  he. 


THE   END  OF  THE  THIRD  BOOJS. 


DAVIDFTS 
I  2 


DA  VI  DEIS, 

BOOK  IV, 

CHAPTER    I. 


THO*  the  sharp  sentence,  which,  in  too  great  haste, 
TV  unwitting  king  upon  himself  had  plac'd, 
Was  mitigated  by  the  clemency 
Of  David's  God  ;   that  David  might  not  die  : 
Yet  did  the  prophet,  in  God's  name  declare, 
That  he  would  evil  against  him  prepare  j 
Which  should  in  his  own  family  arise, 
And  on  him  bring  the  sorest  exercise. 

This  was  the  doom,  tho'  more  at  large  exprest, 
By  which  poor  David  was  to  be  distrest. 
Which  (though  protracted,  yet)  would  certain  be: 
For  who  can  alter  a  divine  decree  ? 
Judgment  denoune'd  may  linger  :  but  at  length, 
They  fall  more  heavy,  and  with  greater  strength. 
Sometimes  the  stroke  doth  at  a  distance  stand  : 
Yet  that  which  brings  it  on  is  near  at  hand. 
So,  in  this  case,  some  years  did  intervene, 
Betwixt  the  sentence,  and  the  tragick  scene  ; 
Yet  that  which  led  thereto  did  closely  lurk, 
And,  in  short  time,  did  thus  bring  on  the  work. 

Of  all  the  many  sons  which  David  had, 
Amnon  the  eldest  was  ;  a  topping  lad, 
Who  of  the  Jezreelite,  Ahinoam, 
Was  born,  soon  after  she  to  Hebron  came. 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  97 

A  daughter  also  David  had,  whose  name 
Was  Tamar  ;   a  most  beautiful  young  dame, 
Sister  she  was  to  Absalom  the  fair, 
David's  third  son  ;   so  noted  for  his  hair. 

On  this  half  sister-princess,  Amnon  cast 
A  wanton  eye.     Affection  grew  so  fast 
Upon  him,  that,  net  daring  to  discover 
For  shame,  or  fear,  what  an  unlawful  lover 
He  was  ;  he  pin'd  away,  his  cheeks  grew  pale, 
His  flesh  did  waste,  his  strength  began  to  fail. 
The  fiery  passion,  in  his  bosom  pent, 
Did  inward  burn,  for  want  of  outward  vent. 

A  friend  he  had,  who  unto  him  was  near 
Of  kin  ;  a  friend  peculiarly  dear  : 
His  father's  brother's  son,  nam'd  Jonadab, 
Quick  sighted,  and  too  wise  to  be  a  blab. 

He,  well  observing  how,  from  day  to  day, 
His  princely  kinsman  pin'd  and  fell  awa ;  : 
For  which  since  he  no  outward  cause  could  find, 
Concluded  something  did  afflict  his  mind. 
Wherefore,  a  proper  season  having  got, 
He  put  the  question  close  ;  enquiring  what 
It  was,  that  on  his  nature  did  prevail, 
So  as  to  make  his  countenance  look  pale, 
And  flesh  decay  ;  imploring  not  to  hide 
Aught  from  his  friend  ;  in  whom  he  might  confide. 

Prince  Amnon,  by  his  friend  thus  closely  prest, 
His  love,  tho'  not  without  a  blush,  confest, 
The  princess  Tamar  'tis,  said  he  I  love, 
Oh,  that  my  love  should  so  eccentrick  move  ! 
I  love  my  own  half  sister,  who  dtfLspring 
From  the  same  root,  as  I  myself^Rhe  king. 
I  love,  ah  me  !    I  love  ;  yet  love  in  va.ni  ; 
Hopeless  the  object  of  my  love  to  gain. 
This  is  my  case.     The  heat  of  my  desire 
Consumes  my  nature  ;  sets  me  all  on  fire. 

When  Jonadab  (than  whom  no  man  alive 
Knew  better  how  a  mischief  to  contrive) 

Had 


98  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

Had  heard  the  case  ;  he  soon  discover'd  what 
Would  Amnon  please  ;  and  thus  he  laid  the  plot. 

Go  take  thy  bed,  said  he,  and  (for  a  trick) 
Put  on  thy  night  cap.      Feign  that  thou  art  sick.     ' 
And  when  thy  father  comes  to  see  thee,  say, 
Give  leave,   I  pray,  my  sister  Tamar  may 
Come  to  me  ;  and  before  me  dress  some  meat : 
That,  seeing  her  prepare  it,  I  may  eat. 

He  went  no  farther.      For,  he  knew,  the  prince 
Was  quick  enough,  to  understand  his  sense. 
And  if  he  could  but  draw  the  long'd  for  dame 
Within  his  reach,  knew  how  to  quench  his  flame. 

Amnon,  the  council  liking,  forthwith  took 
His  bed  upon  it ;  and,  with  puling  look, 
Dissembled  sickness.      Quickly  the  Report 
Of  Amnon's  illness  reached  the  royal  court. 

The  king,  in  haste,  to  Amnon  doth  repair, 
To  see  his  ailing  son,  the  kingdom's  heir, 
This  gave  fair  room  for  Amnon  to  request, 
He  might  eat  something  by  his  sister  drest. 
The  king  consents  ;  and  doth  his  mind  declare, 
That  Tamar  should  to  Amnon's  house  repair  : 
And  there,  by  his  direction  dress  such  meat 
For  him,  as  he,  poor  heart  !   could  like  to  eat. 

The  princess  Tamar  did  no  sooner  hear 
Her  father's  order,  but,  with  filial  fear, 
And  nimble  steps,  she  to  her  brother  hies, 
Who,  on  his  bed.  dissembling  sickness,  lies. 
She  ask'd  him  how  he  did  :  and  did  bemoan 
His  danger.      But  more  justly  might  her  own. 
The  courteous  mein,  fresh  beauty  of  the  dame, 
Did  more  and  more  the  letcher's  lust  inflame. 
She  ask'd  him  what  he'd  please  to  have  her  make 
For  him  to  eat  :   he  pitch'd  upon  a  cake. 
She  to  the  work  address'd  herself  with  haste  ; 
Temper'd  the  flour,  and  wrought  it  into  paste. 
Her  milk  white  hands,  and  slender  fingers  frame 
The  pliant  paste,  till  it  a  cake  became. 


Book  IV.  DAV1DEIS.  99 

Then  having  bak'd  it  also  at  his  fire, 
(Each  turn  and  motion  height'ning  his  desire) 
She  brought  it  to  him.      But  he  put  it  by  : 
His  room  was  overfill'd  with  company. 
But  order  given  that  it  clear'd  should  be, 
And  none  left  in  it,  but  himself  and  she  ; 
He  then  requested,  that  she  would  draw  near, 
And  bring  the  mess.      She  did  so,  without  fear, 
But  when,  alas  !    within  his  reach  she  came, 
He  laid  fast  hold  upon  the  lovely  dame  : 
Then  taking  her  about  the  neck,  he  kiss'd  her, 
And  bluntly  said,  come,  lie  with  me,  my  sister. 

Surpriz'd,  the  damsel  trembled  :  and  wculd  fain 
Have  from  him  got :   she  strove  but  strove  in  vain  \ 
He  held  her  fast.      She  then  began  to  plead  ; 
And,  for  her  honour,  thus  did  intercede. 

"  Oh  !   force  me  not,  my  brother  !    I  entreat 

Thee  to  consider,  that  the  sin  is  great. 

Great  in  itself:  greater,  in  thee  to  me  ; 

So  nearly  link'd  by  consanguinity. 

Forbear,  I  pray,  forbear :   thy  lust  restrain. 

Thy  honour,  mine,  our  father's,  do  not  stain 

With  such  an  infamy'.      Thou  knowest  full  well, 

No  such  thing  may  be  borne  in  Israel. 

Should' st  thou  defile  me  :  where  could  I  abide  ! 

Where  find  an  hole  ?  my  shamed  head  to  hide  ! 

Thou  tco,  the  heir  of  our  great  father's  crown, 

Born  to  the  kingdom,  bred  in  high  renown. 

Thy  father's  darling,  and  the  people's  joy  : 

What  will  become  of  thee,  if  thou  destroy 

Their  hopes,  by  perpetrating  such  a  crime 

As  this  ?  well  might  thou  theceforth  curse  the  time 

Thou  e'er  saw  Tamar  :  for  thou  then  (ah  me  ! ) 

But  as  a  fool  in  Israel  would'st  be. 

Regard  thine  honour,  mine,  our  family  : 

And  rob  me  not  of  my  virginity. 

Force  me  not,  brother,  force  me  not  :  but  rather 

Ask  me  hi  marriage  of  our  royal  father. 

«  He 


100  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV, 

*'  He  to  bestow  me  on  thee  will  not  fail 

"  O  let  my  pray'rs  and  tears  with  thee  prevail  ? 

This  said,  she,  with  her  tears,  bedew'd  his  face  ; 
But  he,  whom  lust  had  quite  bereft  of  grace, 
Her  most  importune  prayers  would  not  hear ; 
But  to  her  supplications  stopp'd  his  ear  : 
And,  being  stronger,  did  by  force  deflow'r 
The  princely  dame  ;  resisting,  to  her  pow'r. 

Great  is  the  difference  betwixt  lawful  love, 
And  lawless  lust.     That  doth  itself  approve, 
By  its  effects,  to  be  indeed  divine, 
As  having  a  celestial  origin. 
That  constant  is  ;  and  by  enjoyment  grows 
Still  stronger  ;  which  its  innate  virtue  shows. 

But  t'other  (which  is  miscall'd  love,  and  must 
If  rightly  namM,  be  stiled  filthy  lust) 
From  sensual  concupiscence  doth  flow  : 
Which  shews  its  parentage  is  from  below. 
This  likes  tc  tike  a  taste  of  ev'ry  one, 
Dally  with  all ;  but  constant  be  to  none, 
Arid  this,  how  hot  soever  it  doth  burn, 
After  enjoyment,  can  to  hatred  turn. 

Such  love  was  Amnon's  ;  whose  uncurb1  d  desire, 
After  his  sister,  set  him  all  on  fire, 
He  burn'd,  he  flam'd,  conram'd,  and  needs  would  die, 
Unless  he  might  with  his  own  sister  lie. 
Yet,  when  he  once  his  brutish  end  had  gain'd, 
And,  by  a  rape,  his  sister's  honour  stain'd ; 
He  in  a  moment,  chang'd  his  amorous  theme, 
And  flew  as  high  in  tli'  opposite  extreme. 
He,  who  but  now  was  over  hot  and  bold, 
Is  now  become  to  her  exceeding  cold. 
He,  that  in  nothing  else  could  take  delight, 
But  her  fair  face,  now  loathes  and  shuns  the  sight 
She,  who  befqre  his  heart  did  captivate, 
Is  now  become  the  object  of  his  hate. 
He  hates  her  now.     He  hates  her  now  much  more . 
With  perfect  hatred,  than  he  lov'd  before. 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  102 

He  hates  her  so,  he  can't  her  presence  bear  : 
But  every  hour  she  stays,  he  thinks  a  year. 
That  nothing  might,  to  shew  his  hate,  be  lacking  ; 
He  rudely  bids  her,  up  ;  away,  be  packing. 

This  surly  carriage  added  to  the  grief 
She  had  before.      Nor  know  she  where  relief, 
Opprest,  to  find.      She  told  him,  on  her  part 
There  was  no  cause  he  thus  should  break  her  heart. 
Wish'd  him  to  weigh,  whether  this  would  not  bring 
Greater  displeasure  on  him  from  the  king. 

He  the  deaf  ear,  to  all  she  said,  did  turn  ; 
And  churlishly  did  at  her  counsel  spurn. 
Then  call'd  his  man,  and  sternly  bid  him  put 
That  woman  out ;  and  fast  the  door  to  shut. 
He  did  so.      She,  poor  princess,  did  lament 
The  double  injury.      Forthwith  she  rent 
Her  royal  robe  (of  divers  colours  made, 
With  which  kings  virgin-daughters  were  array'd) 
The  lovely  tresses  of  her  well  set  hair, 
Her  trembling  fingers,  through  deep  sorrow,  tare  ; 
Then  putting  ashes  on  her  head,  she  laid 
Her  hand  thereon,  and  mourning  accents  made, 
"Nubile  to  her  brother  Absalom's  she  went, 
Where  she,  more  freely,  might  her  case  lament. 

As  soon  as  Absalom  the  ravish'd  dame 
Did  see  (well  knowing  also  whence  she  came) 
He  strait  suspecting  what  had  her  befel, 
Begg'd  of  her,  that  she  would  not  stick  to  tell 
Him  how,  'twas  with  her :  whether  Amnon  had 
Abus'd  her  ;  and  from  thence  she  was  so  sad 
She  blushing,  rather  to  acknowledge  chose, 
Her  wrong  by  looks,  than  shame  by  words  disclose. 
He  understood  her.     And  considering 
How  dear  prince  Amnon  was  unto  the  king  ; 
How  high  in  favour  of  the  court  and  town, 
He  stood,  as  heir  apparent  to  the  crown  : 
Concluded  in  himself,  'twould  be  but  vain 
To  ho^e  for  justice,  if  she  should  complain  : 

Therefore 


102  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

Therefore  he  wish'd  his  sister  to  conceal 
The  wrong  sustained,  until  he  could  deal 
With  Amnon  for  it.      She  submits  to  wait ;   * 
And  live  with  him  ;  but  much  disconsolate. 

Absalom's  guess  was  right,  that  'twould  be  vain 
For  Tamar  of  prince  Amnon  to  complain 
Unto  the  king  ;  for  though  he  very  wroth 
Is  said  to  be  ;  yet  was  he  no  less  loth 
(When  to  his  ear  this  foul  transgression  came) 
To  lay  on  Amnon  punishment  or  shame. 

But  Absalom  did  bear  the  thing  to  mind  ; 
And  in  due  time  to  be  reveng'd  design'd. 
For,  in  his  heart,  he  could  not  choose  but  hate 
The  man  that  durst  his  sister  violate, 
Flow  near,  or  high  soever,  such  a  stain 
Will  hardly  be  got  out,  till  he  is  slain 
That  gave  it.      Therefore  Absalom  is  set 
Amnon  to  kill,  when  he  fit  time  can  get. 

CHAP.  II. 


TWICE  had  the  restless,  and  unweary'd  sun, 
His  yearly  course,  throughout  the  Zodiac  run, 
E'er  Absalom  a  season  fit  could  find, 
To  execute  the  vengeance  he  design'd 
On  Amnon,  for  the  wickedness  he  wrought. 
In  the  dishonour  he  on  Tamar  brought, 
But  now  a  fit  occasion  did  present, 
And  he  tco  take  it  too,  was  fully  bent. 

A  great  sheep  shearing,  at  his  country  seat 
Had  Absalom  ;  at  which  a  noble  treat 
He  meant  to  make  ;  and  thither  to  invite 
The  king  and  court  ;  then  Amnon  there  to  smite. 

To  court  he  hastens,  and  acquaints  the  king, 
In  humble  manner,  with  his  sheep  shearing. 
Intreats  that  he,  at  the  set  time  and  place, 
His  feast  would,  with  his  royal  presence,  grace. 

To 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  105 


T^suit  hastate,  and  his  retinue  large, 
jQj^u^H^'siider'd,  would  eahance  the  charge  ; 
B^^HPHt  this,  and  handsomely  refas'd, 
WBKop'd  his  son  would  hold  the  king  excus'd. 

It  suited  well ;  and  sure  he  lik'd  it  best, 
Without  the  king  ;  so  Amnon  were  his  guest 
Amnon,  for  whom  the  entertainment's  made, 
Whom  to  destroy,  the  subtle  train  is  laid. 
Yet  crafty  Absalom,  the  more  to  hide 
His  bloody  purpose,  still  himself  apply'd, 
With  greater  earnestness,  to  gain  the  king 
To  come  :  and  with  him  all  his  sons  to  bring  : 
But  all  in  vain.     The  king  will  not  be  won, 
By  his  entreaties,  to  oppress  his  son. 
Yet,  that  he  might  his  good  acceptance  show, 
His  blessing  he  upon  him  did  bestow. 

Then  Absalom,  by  this  ernbolden'd,  prest, 
To  let  his  brother  Amnon  be  his  guest, 
Why  Amnon  ?  ask'd  the  king.      Because  said  he, 
Amnon  in  dignity,  is  next  to  thee. 
The  gentle  king,  from  all  suspicion  free, 
And  overcome  by  importunity, 
Yields  that,  not  Amnon  only,  but  the  rest 
Of  the  king's  sons  should  go  at  his  request. 

The  point  tb.us»gain'd  now  Absalom  doth  part 
From  court,  and  hastes,  with  unrelenting  heart, 
Unto  his  country  seat,  that  he  might  there 
The  proper  means  to  his  design  prepare. 

Then,  of  his  servants,  calling  to  him  such, 
As,  in  his  cause,  he  knew  would  never  grutch 
Their  lives  to  lose  :  he  thus  the  matter  breaks  ; 
And,  in  such  terms  as  these,  his  purpose  speaks  : 

"  Mark  well,  said  he,  when  Amnon,  at  the  feast? 
"  Shall  have  drunk  high,  and  overcharg'd  his  breast 
"  With  gen'rous  wine  ;  when  I  say,  Amnon  smite  ; 
%i  Fall  on,  strike  home,  fear  not,  but  kill  him  quite, 
"  Remember  it  is  I  that  give  command  : 
*'   Be  'pliant  then,  and  to  your  weapons  stand. " 

K  Accordingly 


104  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV, 


Accordingly,  his  brethren  beinp-  come, 
And  all  the  guests  to  feast  witi   Absalom  ; 
Ke,  that  he  i-iianoa  might  the  mon  beguil? 
(His  hatred  hiding  with  a  feigned  smile) 
Embrac'd,  caress'd  him,  and,  for  special  grace, 
He  strait  preferr'd  him  to  the  chiefest  place. 
Ply'd  him  with  sprightly  wines,  till  he  perceiv'd 
Tne  wine  had  him  of  sense  well  nigh  bereav'd, 
CThen  starting  up,  he  gave  the  fatal  word, 
Smite  Amnon.      Forthwith  each  assassin's  sword 
Was  sheathed  in  him  :  ev'ry  one  let  fly 
At  Amnon,  until  Amnon  dead  did  lye* 

But  oh  !   the  dreadful  tumult  that  it  made 
Among  the  guests  !   each  held  himself  betray'd- 
The  royal  stock  were  most  of  all  perplex'd, 
Of  whom  each  fear'd  his  turn  would  be  the  next. 
Which  to  prevent,  all  to  their  mules  did  hie, 
And  back  to  court  fear  adding  wings,  did  fly. 

But  tho',  with  utmost  speed,  they  cut  their  way, 
Yet  long  tongu'd  fame  made  greater  haste  than  they, 
The  tabling  dame  before  they  got  to  court, 
A  d  of  the  sad  disaster  made  report. 
A  d,  as  her  nature  is  to  magnify 
T   '  ill  news  she  bears   (not  sticking  at  a  lye) 
She,  to  exaggerate  the  crime  did  feign, 
Tn  .    Abs»ak/Cn  had  all  his  brothers  slain  ; 

t  net  one  of  them  alive  was  left ; 
But  of  his  sons  the  king  was  quite  bereft. 

Such  doleful  news  sufficient  was  to  shake 
The  strongest  mind,  and  make  the  heart  to  ake. 
The  king,  with  garments  rent,   upon  the  ground 
Himself  did  cast ;   his  sorrows  did  abound. 
And  all  his  servants,  with  their  garments  rent, 
The  loss  of- so  much  royal  blcod  lament. 

Th  s  .  o-.adab  observing  (he  who  gave 
The  counsel,  which  brought  Amnon  to  his  grave) 

o 'd  the  king  not  to  believe  that  all 
His  son's  were  slain  ;  Amnon  alone  did  fall. 

E 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  105 

That  this,  which  he  related,  was  most  true, 
He  could  assure  him.      For,  said  he,   I  knew, 
Long  since,  that  Abs'lom,  from  the  very  hour,. 
Wherein  his  brother  Amnon  did  defiow'r 
His  sister  Tamar,  had  his  death  design'd  ; 
And  only  waited  until  he  could  find 
A  season  for't,  which  since  he  now  did  gain, 
He  caus'd  his  brother  Amnon  to  be  slain. 
Thereby  to  sacrifice  to  Tamar's  honour, 
Him  that  had  brought  so  great  reproach  upon  her. 
By  that  time  Jonadab  his  tale  had  told, 
(Which  scarce  as  yet  could  gain  belief)  behold 
The  king's  sons  enter'd,  in  a  frightful  maze, 
And  on  the  king,  as  he  on  them,  did  gaze: 
Till  he  and  they  into  loud  weeping  brake  ; 
And,  in  sad  accents,  mutual  sorrows  spake. 

Mean  while  young  Absalom,  to  save  his  head 
From  stroke  of  justice,  for  protection  fled 
Unto  his  grandfather's,    King  Talmai's  court  : 
Where  he  might  hope  for  safety  and  support. 
But  David  long  did  Amnon's  death  bewail, 
Which  yet  could  not  Uriah's  countervail. 

This  is  the  second  instance  may  be  giv'n, 
Of  the  fulfilling  that  decree  of  heav'n, 
By  God  denoune'd  on  David  ;  when  he  says, 
From  thy  own  house,  against  the  divers  ways, 

I'll  evil  bring. First,  Amnon  did  deflow'r 

His  daughter  Tamar  put  into  his  pow'r 
By  him  ;  than  which,  ah,  what  more  foul  dishonour 
Poor  harmless  princess,  could  have  come  upon  her, 
What  home-bred  mischief  on  himself  could  fail, 
Which  could  a  worthy  mind  more  deeply  gall. 

This  seem'd  the  first  ;   and  scarcely  two  years  after 
His  son  and  heir  had  thus  dehTd  his  daughter  : 
That  injury  her  brother  did  repay, 
And  in  revenge  the  wretched  Amnon  slay. 
Had  David  justice  upon  Amnon  done, 
He  might  have  mended,  and  not  lost,  his  son. 

Thi? 


106  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV- 

This  was  a  eutting  evil,  and  must  need 
Strike  deep,  and  cause  a  father's  heart  to  bleed. 
This  was  the  second  stroke,  by  which  that  word 
Was  verify* d  ;  David  beware  the  third. 

CHAP.  III. 


NOW  had  prince  Absalom  three  winters  spent 
At  Geshur,  whither  he  for  safety  went : 
When  David,  having  for  his  Amnon  shed 
A  flood  of  tears  ;  but  seeing  he  was  dead, 
His  grief  subsides  ;  and  soon  paternal  love, 
Its  place  resuming,  in  his  breast  doth  move 
To  Absalom  ;  right  heir  to  Isr'el's  throne, 
Now  Amnon's  dead,  and  Chileah  also  gone. 

This  hank'ring  mind  Joab's  observing  eye 
Did  in  the  king,  his  uncle,  soon  espy  ;  * 

And  being  glad  to  find  it,  sought  a  way 
How  he  might  Absalom  to  court  convey  : 
Not  doubting  but,  if  he  could  that  obtain, 
The  royal  favour  he  would  soon  regain. 
This  to  efFec~t,  a  wily  train  he  laid 
The  king  to  circumvent ;  who,  thus  betray'd, 
Unwittingly  should  pardon  Absalom, 
And  that  once  done,  should  then  recal  him  home. 

To  Tekoah  he  sent,  where  then  did  dwell 
A  woman,  who  in  wisdom  did  excel  : 
Her  he  instructed,  when  arriv'd  to  dress 
Herself  in  mourning  weeds,  then  get  access 
To  David's  presence,  and  before  him  feign, 
She  mourned  for  a  son  of  hers,  was  slain 
By  his  own  brother  ;  whom  the  family 
Rose  up  against,  condeming  him  to  die. 
Then,  to  beseech  the  king  her  son  to  save 
From  being  buried  in  his  brother's  grave. 

Instructed  thus,  she  to  the  court  did  go, 
And,  as  a  suppjjfrnt,  herself  did  throw 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  107 

At  the  king's  feet.     And  being  ask'd  the  case, 
Her  artful  tale  she  told,  \fhich  took  such  place 
In  the  unwary  king,  that  thus  he  spake, 
Go  home  ;  and  proper  care  for  thee  I'll  take. 
She,  glad  of  this,  did  yet  her  suit  renew 
Once  and  again  ;  until  the  king  she  drew 
To  say,  thy  son  for  this  shan't  lose  an  hair ; 
And  this  he  did  not  only  say,  but  sware. 

When  thus  the  wily  dame  the  king  had  wrought 
To  grant,  unwittingly,  the  thing  she  sought, 
Obtaining  leave,  the  matter  home  did  bring, 
And  fairly  did  apply  it  to  the  king. 
Told  him,  that  he  was  that  avenger,  whom 
She  fear'd,  on  the  behalf  of  Absalom. 
Besought  him  to  consider  that,  unless 
He  pardon'd  him  and  did  his  people  bless 
With  their  beloved  Absalom  :   Nor  he 
From  danger  could,  nor  they  from  fear  be  free. 
She  begg'd  that  he,  as  father,  and  as  king, 
Would  pardon  Absalom  ;  and  home  would  brine 
His  banished  ;  and  him  again  restore 
Unto  the  grace,  in  which  he  stood  before. 

The  king,  himself  now  finding  bver-reach&d, 
(As  once  before  ;  when  Nathan  to  him  preach 'd 
That  saving  sermon  ;  with  this  odds  ;  that  he 
Was  guilty  then  ;  but  now  from  guilt  was  free) 
Injoin'd  the  woman,  that  she  should  not  hide 
From  him  the  thing  he  ask'd  ;  but  should  confide 
In  him,  that  he  would  no  advantage  take 
Against  her.      She  consenting,  thus  he  spake, 
Is  not  the  hand  of  Joab  in  this  thing  !  *^ 

She  own'd  it  was.     Then  Joab  hither  bring, 

The  king  reply'd. And  Joab  being  come, 

He  gave  command,  go  fetch  the  young  man  hcrr,e . 

The  gen'ral's  countenance  his  joy  display'd, 
And  thanks  return'd,  and  low  obeisance  made, 
To  Geshur's  splendid  court,  with  speed  he  flies, 
TL    prince  receiv'd  him  with  a  glad  surorhe  : 
K  2 


103  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

The  welcome  news,  through  all  the  court,  resounds, 

The  joy  was  gen'ral,  yet  in  decent  bounds, 

On  Absalom's  account,  who  ever  since 

He  came  to  Geshur,  like  a  noble  prince, 

Himself  conducted  wisely,  and  so  well, 

No  complaisance  could  Absalom's  excel ; 

So  gentle,  courteous,  and  so  princely  fair, 

Kach  heart  was  gain'd  by  his  obliging  air. 

His  smiles  were  honours,  ev'ry  courtier  strove 

Himself  to  render  worthy  of  his  love. 

This  him  to  them  so  feelingly  endears, 

They  could  not  think  of  parting  without  tears. 

Yet  go  he  must,  affection,  friendship,  all 

Must  vail,  and  yield  to  a  paternal  call  : 

Though  duty  seenvd  to  claim  the  greatest  share  ; 

Yet  interest  here  no  little  weight  did  bear. 

With  Joab  therefore  Absalom  returns 
From  Geshur  to  Jerusalem,  and  burns 
With  thristy  hopes,  and  expectation  great, 
Of  highest  favour  from  the  royal  seat.  j 

But  oh  !   the  disappointment  it  must  bring 
To  his  aspiring  mind,  when,  from  the  king 
Joab  returning,  let  him  understand, 
It  was  to  him  the  king's  express  command, 
That  he  should  strait  to  his  own  house  resort, 
And  not  attempt  to  chew  himself  at  court. 
For  well  the  king  consider'd,   'twas  not  meet, 
Although  his  love  was  great,  his  son  should  see't ; 
Nor  that  he  him  to  special  grace  should  take, 
Who  had  so  lately  made  his  heart  to  ake. 

Though  therefore,  circumvented  by  a  wile, 
He  hsd  recall'd  him  from  his  self  exile  : 
And  sav'd  his  life  from  danger  of  the  law, 
He  held  it  best  to  keep  him  still  in  awe. 
Hoping,  in  time,  he  to  a  better  sense 
Might  thereby  bring  him  of  his  great  offence. 

When  two  full  years  prince  Absalom  had  lain 
Under  confinement  ;  not  without  disdain. 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  109 

That  he  had  not  been  suffer'd,  in  that  space, 
His  father  to  salute,  or  see  his  face  ; 
Impatient  of  restraint,  he  now  did  send 
For  Joab    (both  his  kinsman  and  his  friend) 
To  try  if  he  howe'er  he  sped,  would  bring 
Him  to  the  long'd-for  presence  of  the  king. 

But  truly  Joab  (who,  perhaps,   might  find 
How  to  the  son  the  king  did  stand  incKn'd) 
Would  not  at  first,  nor  second  summons,  come  : 
Which  usage  so  provokM  prince  Absalom, 
That  he  resolv'd,  since  fair  means  seenvd  to  fail, 
He'd  try  by  rougher  methods  to  prevail. 
He  bid  his  servants,  therefore,   set  on  fire 
A  field  of  Joab's.  Joab  to  enquire 
The  cause  of  this  abuse,  did  quickly  come, 
And  this  blunt  answer  had  from  Absalom. 

Thou  know'st  I  for  thee  sent,  once  and  again  ; 
But  thou  from  coming  to  me  didst  refrain. 
No  other  means  being  left,   I  this  did  take, 
To  see  if  int'rest  would  thee  kinder  make. 
Thee  to  the  king  now  suffer  me  to  send, 
And  beg,  he.  to  my  life  will  put  an  end, 
Rather  than  under  this  restraint  me  keep, 
Confin'd  so,  that  abroad  I  may  not  peep. 
Why  didst  thou  me  (a  most  unhappy  wretch  !) 
From  grandsire  Talrnai's  court,  in  Geshur,  fetch  ; 
Under  pretence,  that  I  should  be  restor'd 
Unto  the  favour  of  my  royal  lord  ! 
Better  it  were,  I  thither  might  go  back 
(Where  I  nor  liberty,  nor  love  did  lac!.) 
Than  here  remain  ;  where  I  no  comfort  have, 
But  what  arises  from  an  hoped  grave. 
Therefore  beseech  the  king  me  once  to  grace, 
With  the  fair  aspect  of  his  royal  face. 
If  live  I  may  not  in  his  gracious  eye, 
Let  me  not  live  at  all  :   I  choose  to  die. 

Tho*  Joab  gladly  would  himself  excuse 
From  going  on  this  errand,     Yet  refuse 

He 


110  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

He  knew  not  how.     The  prince  hard  presses  for't, 

And  he  o'ercome,  doth  trudge  away  to  Court, 

Come  thither,  he  a  proper  season  waits, 

And  then  so  aptly  to  the  king  relates 

The  moving  case  of  his  beloved  son, 

His  father's  fondness  soon  he  gain'd  upon  ; 

Affection  help'd  his  judgment  to  betray, 

And  to  the  prince's  suit  prepares  the  way  : 

For  now  affection  made  his  judgment  doubt, 

If  he  against  his  son  should  still  hold  out,. 

He  might  endanger,  e'er  he  was  aware, 

The  driving  of  his  son  into  despair. 

Wherefore  he  order'd  Joab  strait  to  bring 

Absalom  to  his  presence  ;  th'  only  thing    c 

By  both  desired.     Joab  o'erjoy'd,  doth  haste 

To  Absalom  ;  and  brings  him  back  as  fast. 

He  to  the  king  doth  all  submission  show  ; 

And  at  his  royal  feet  himself  doth  throw. 

The  king  in  kindness,  lifts  him  from  the  ground^ 

Glad  such  humility  in  him  was  found, 

Embraces,  and  salutes  him  with  a  kiss, 

In  sign  he  pardon'd  what  he'd  done  amiss. 

CHAP.  IV. 

OThe  imtemp'rance  of  the  ambitious  mind  ! 
To  no  due  bounds,  or  medium  confin'd, 
How  doth  it  swell  !   how  doth  it  soar  on  high  ; 
As  if  it  fain  would  climb  above  the  sky, 

This  topping  temper  soon  itself  did  show 
In  Absalom,  and  wrought  his  ovei  throw: 
He  that,  at  home  confin'd  but  t'other  day, 
Greatly  deprest  in  mind,  obscurely  lay, 
O'erwhelm'd  almost  with  grief,   and  cold  despair  ; 
No  sooner  felt  the  warmth  of  courtly  air 
But,  as  the  vvmter-fhes,  whom  heat  doth  bring 
To  sense,  begins  to  buz,  and  take  the  wing  ; 
So  he,  the  royal  favour  feeling,  strait 
Took  wing,  and  soar'd  above  his  proper  state. 

Unsteadv 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  Ill 

Unsteady  nature,  varying  like  the  wind, 
Hurries  to  each  extreme  th'  unstable  mind. 
At  sea  becalm'd,  we  wish  some  brisker  gales 
Would  on  us  rise  ;  and  fill  our  limber  sails. 
We  have  our  wish  ;  and  strait  our  skiff  is  toss'd 
So  high,  we  are  in  danger  to  be  lost. 
At  land  we  would  be  foremost  ;  make  a  stir ; 
And  ride  at  neck  and  all,  with  whip  and  spur. 
We  would  be,  would  have  all ;  are  loth  to  stay 
For  future  rights,  till  providence  make  way. 

This  is  the  nature  of  ambitious  man, 
Soaring  as  fast,  as  high  too,  as  he  can. 
Whereas,  would  we  but  bridle  our  desire, 
Till  the  due  time,  we  might  rise  safely  higher. 

This  was  the  ruin  of  this  goodly  prince, 
Let  loose  to  soon  ;  his  lofty  mind,  e'er  since, 
Aim'd  nothing  lower  than  the  highest  seat  ; 
Thought  nothing,  for  himself,  too  good  or  great. 
He  on  the  crown  look'd  with  a  lodging  eye  : 
Nor  speak,  nor  dream'd  of  ought  but  monarchy. 
And  whensoe'er  he  saw  the  royal  throne, 
Could  scarce  forebear  to  call  that  seat  his  own. 
His  own  it  might  have  been,  would  he  have  staid, 
Until  his  fathers' s  head  was  fairly  laid  ; 
But  his  impatience  thought  each  day  a  year, 
Each  year  an  age,  until  the  throne  was  clear. 
Nor  would  he  stay  till  providence  should  make 
His  way  to  the  crown,  but's  own  way  would  take* 

Accordingly,  he  did  assume  such  state, 
As  far  transcends  the  highest  subject's  rate. 
Horses  he  did,  and  chariots  too  provide  ; 
And  fifty  men,  in  whom  he  could  confide, 
To  run  before  him  ;  which  might  seem  to  be, 
Either  for  state,  or  for  security. 
High  state  it  shew'd  if  these  his  lacquies  were  : 
A  strong  defence,  if  he  did  them  prepare 
For  his  life  guard.      On  which  soe'er  account 
It  was  ;  it  did  a  subject's  state  surmount 

This 


112  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

This  pomp,  however,  made  the  people  gaze  ; 
And  in  the  mob  did  admiration  raise. 
For  vulgar  eyes  with  gawdy  shews  are  caught  j 
And  from  admiring  to  submission  brought. 
But  he  had  other  ways  to  circumvent 
The  better  sort  and  thus  to  work  lie  went. 

Early  each  morn,  he  to  the  court  would  go  ; 
And  there,  beside  the  gate,  would  stand,  that  so 
Whatever  suiter  to  the  king  did  come, 
For  judgment,  must  pass  by  prince  Absalom  ; 
Then  would  he  call  him  near,  and  ask  his  name, 
What  his  affair  might  be,  and  whence  he  came. 
Then  feigning  a  concern  the  matter  might 
Go  well  ;  he'd  say,  take  care  thy  case  be  right  : 
But  then,  with  down  cast  look,  and  shaking  head. 
Added,  the  king  hath  no  man,  in  his  stead, 
Deputed  thee  to  hear ;  so  thatthough  right 
Thy  cause  should  be,  thou  suffer  may'st  by  migfa 
Then  ;n  a  kind  of  discontented  tone 
(As  if  he  did  the  peoples  case  bemoan) 
He'd  mutter  something  ;  then  would  make  a.  stop  ; 
And,  in  a  softer  tone  this  wish  would  drop  ; 
Would  I  were  made  chief  justice  in  the  land  ! 
That  every  man,  who  hath  a  cause  in  hand, 
Might  come  to  me  ;  and  I  would  do  him  right, 
How  poor  soe'er  :  none  should  oppress  by  might. 
Would  I  were  on  the  bench,  that  I,  from  thence> 
Might  equal  justice  unto  all  dispense  ! 

When  thus  himself  he'd  artfully  extoli'd, 
And  thereby  the  poor  suiter  had  cajoll'd, 
To  bow  before  him,  and  obeisance  make  ;, 
Into  his  arms  he  would  the  client  take, 
Hug  and  embrace  him  ;  nor  would  him  dismiss, 
Till  he  had  charm'd  him  with  a  treacherous  kiss. 
Thus  did  the  son,  by  such  alluring  arts, 
Bereave  the  father  of  his  peoples  hearts  ; 
And  draw  them  to  himself ;  while  the  good  king, 
Of  all  tilings,  least  suspected  such  a  thing. 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  113 

By  this  time,  Absalom  is  thought  to  be 
Forty  years  old.     And  finding  now,  that  he 
So  strong  a  party  had,  that  he  durst  venture 
Upon  the  crown,  by  force  of  arms,  to  enter  ; 
And  drive  his  too  kind  father  from  the  throne, 
(Which  he,  among  his  faction,  call'd  his  own  :) 
He  held  it  best  yet  policy  to  use  ; 
His  royal  parent  further  to  abuse  ; 
And  gain  some  time,  from  his  beguiled  father : 
That  so  he  might  his  scatter'd  forces  gather 
Unto  a  general  rendezvous  ;  and  then 
Pour  on  the  king  a  mighty  host  of  men. 

For  this  end  therefore,  to  the  court  he  went. 
And  that  he  might  besure  to  circumvent 
The  king  ;  this  feigned  tale  he  did  devise, 
His  treason,  with  religion,  to  disguise. 

"  While  I  at  Geshur,  did  an  exile  live, 
"  I  vow'd  a  vow,  that  if  the  Lord  would  give 
*'  Me  favour  in  thy  sight,  and  bring  me  home, 
"  That  I,  in  peace,  unto  this  place  might  come  ; 
"  Then  would  I  to  the  Lord  an  offering  make 
4*  At  Hebron,  where  I  life  at  first  did  take. 
"  Now  therefore,  gracious  sire,  be  pleas'd,  I  pray, 
"  To  grant  thy  servant  leave,  that  go  I  may 
"  To  Hebron,  and  perform  the  vow  I  made 
"  Unto  the  Lord."     The  good  king  thus  betray'd, 
By  feigned  words,  said,  go  in  peace.      He  might 
Have  better  said,  come  back  in  peace  at  night. 
But  wise  men,  good  men,  suffer'd  are  sometimes, 
To  fall  into  the  snares  their  former  crimes 
Have  for  them  laid.     Thus  this  unwitting  king 
Helps  forward  that,  which  must  upon  him  bring 
The  judgment  *  long  since  giv'n.     Uriah's  blood 
Is  not  yet  silenc'd  j  but  still  cries  aloud. 

To  Hebron  now  prii  ce  Absalom  doth  post, 
And  sends  his  scouts  abroad,  through  every  coast 

*  *  Sam.  xii.  II. 

Of 


114  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV, 

Of  Israel,  that  they  might  notice  give 
To  all  his  friends,  who  did  dispersed  live 
In  all  the  tribes  ;  that  when  they  once  should  hear 
The  trumpet  sound,  they  should  for  him  appear 
In  arms  imbody'd  ;  and  where  e'er  they  came, 
Amongst  their  neighbours,  they  should  him  proclaim, 
And_that,  not  faintly  ;  but,  in  lofty  strain, 
Say  Absalom  doth  now  in  Hebron  reign. 

With  Absalom  too,  from  Jerus'lem  went 
Two  hundred  chosen  men  ;  who  his  intent 
Knew  nothing  of;  but  went  unto  his  feast ; 
By  which  his  strength,  and  numbers  were  increased  ; 
For  these  were  men  of  choice  abilities 
-For  war  ;  as  well  to  fight,  as  to  advise. 

But  he  for  counsel  chiefly  did  rely 
Upon  Ahithophel,  whose  fame  so  high 
Was  in  esteem,  that  whatsoe'er  he  said, 
Was,  as  the  Oracle  of  God,  obey'd. 
Him  who  had  counsellor  to  David  been, 
Absalom  now  did  to  his  faction  win  :* 
And,  from  his  city  Giloh,  did  the  wretch 
To  his  head  quarters,  now  at  Hebron,  fetch. 
And  now  this  foul  conspiracy  grew  strong, 
The  people  did  so  thick  to  Hebron  throng. 

CHAP.  V. 

WHILE  thus  the  son,  with  a  disloyal  mind, 
His  father  to  dethrone,  by  force  design'd  ; 
Some  loyal  subject,  who  had  notice  got, 
Of  both  the  preparation,  and  the  plot, 
Sped  to  the  court,  that  he  might  timely  bring 
The  news,  howe'er  unwelcome,  to  the  king  ; 
That  he  might  not,  altho'   he  were  betray'd, 
At  unawares  be  slain,  or  pris'ner  made. 
Half  breathless  rushing  in,  he  therefore  said, 
/.bis  !   my  lord,  O  king,  thou  art  betray'd  ! 
The  men  of  Israel  arc  from  thee  rent, 
And  Absalom  to  crown  are  fully  bent, 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  115 

Him  they  already  have  proclaimed  king  ; 

And  mean  thy  scepter  from  thy  hand  to  wring. 

So  universally  they  take  his  part, 

As  if,  in  this,  they  all  had  but  one  heart. 

And  he  is  drawing  out  his  troops  apace, 

As  if  he  aim'd  to  seize  thee  in  this  place. 

So  strange  a  message,  so  unthought  a  thing, 
No  wonder  if  it  did  surprize  the  king. 
Yet  did  it  not  from  him  his  judgment  take, 
Nor  him  so  wholly  void  of  counsel  make, 
But  that  he  thought,    'twas  better  leave  the  city, 
Than  hazard  it  unto  the  rebels  pity. 

Calling  his  servants  therefore  come,  said  he, 
Since  we're  betray 'd,  arise  and  let  us  flee. 
If  Absalom  should  find  us  in  this  place, 
He'll  sack  the  town,  perhaps,  if  not  deface 
The  royal  buildings,  a  id,  as  to  despite, 
The  people  also,  that  are  in  it,  smite. 
Whereas  if  we  be  gone,   us  he'll  pursue, 
So  place,   and  people,  may  that  hurt  eschew. 
.    This  said,  and  in  his  house  ten  women  left ; 
He,  of  his  native  courage  not  bereft, 
March'd  forth  :   his  houshold  servants  him  attend  ; 
And  unto  Kidron-brook  their  course  they  bend. 

When  there  arriv'd,  his  little  troop  he  musters, 
(More  like  the  gleanings,  than  the  thickset  clusters 
Of  a  full  vintage  :)   Yet  enough  to  shew, 
He  had  some  friends  yet  left  ;  though  but  a  few. 

Besides  his  houshold  (which  was  large)  went  o'er 
Six  hundred  fighting  men  ;  who,  long  before, 
Had  been  companions  of  his  suffering  state 
Under  King  Saul ;  and  whom  no  adverse  fate 
Could  make  to  flinch  ;  or  so  far  to  transgress 
The  bounds  of  loyalty,  as  in  distress 
To  leave  him.      These  his  vet' ran  soldiers  were  : 
And,  in  his  cause,  would  sell  their  lives  full  dear. 
1  he^e  were  his  life  guards,  men  of  wond'rous  might, 
•Strong,  hardv,  brave,  and  valiant  in  fight. 

L  With 


116  DAVIDEIS,  Book  IV 

With  these  the  gallant  Ittai  did  consort, 
The  noble  Gittite,  lately  come  to  court. 
The  king  observing  him  approach  the  brook, 
Thus  kindly  to  the  gen'rous  alien  spoke  ; 
Wherefore  shouldst  thou  unhapp'ly  take  a  part, 
In  my  misfortunes,  who  a  stranger  art, 
But  lately  come.      Return  into  the  city. 
Thou  yet  art  safe.      And  it  would  be  great  pity, 
That  I  should  draw  thee  into  danger,  who 
Neither  knows  what  to  do,  nor  where  to  go. 
Take  back  thy  brethren  therefore,  and  abide 
With  the  new  king,  till  God  the  cause  decide. 
And,  for  the  kindness  thou  to  me  dost  show, 
May  truth  and  mercy  always  with  thee  go. 

The  noble  Gittite,  with  a  brave  disdain, 
Heard  out  the  king.      But  then  could  not  refrain 
From  telling  him,  how  much  himself  he  held 
In  honour  bound,  to  serve  him  in  the  field, 
He  therefore  solemnly  protested  that, 
He  would  not  leave  him  in  his  adverse  state  ; 
But  with  his  leave,  wherever  he  should  bend 
His  course,  he  would  upon  him  there  attend. 
Come  life  or  death,  he  ne'er  would  him  forsake, 
But  with  him,  to  the  last,  his  lot  would  take. 

So  brave  a  resolution  needs  must  cheer 
The  king,  not  much  inur'd  to  let  in  fear. 
Then  passing  on  together  without  stay, 
They  to  the  wilderness  direct  their  way. 

But  Zadock  and  Abiathar,  who  were 
At  that  time  priests,  and  of  the  ark  took  care  ; 
Fearing  some  htjury  it  might  receive, 
If  at  Jerusalem  they  it  should  leave, 
Had  brought  it  with  them  ;  which  when  David  saw, 
He  stopp'd,  and  with  a  reverential  awe, 
To  Zadock  said,  bear  back  the  ark  again 
Into  its  place,  and  let  it  there  remain. 
For,  If  the  Lord  should  me  vouchsafe  the  grace, 
That  I  once  more  with  joy  may  see  his  face  ; 

He'll 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  117 

He'll  bring  me  back,  and  I  shall  then  behold 
His  habitation  as  in  days  of  old. 
But  if  he  thus  say,  I  have  no  delight 
In  David  :  lo,  I  stand  here,  in  his  sight, 
Ready  to  bear,  with  unrepinmg  mind, 
What  he,  to  do  to  me,  shall  be  inclin'd. 
For  well  I  know  his  Judgments  all  are  just : 
And  in  his  mercy  I  repose  my  trust. 

The  ark  dispos'd  ;  yet  was  not  David  clear  ; 
He  something  had  to  say  in  Zadock's  ear. 
He  therefore  ask'd  him  ;  art  not  thou  a  seer  ? 
(Thou,  and  Abiathar  too,  thy  compeer) 
You  therefore  both  will  out  of  danger  be, 
Your  office  giving  you  immunity. 
Return  into  Jerusalem,  and  stay 
As  near  to  Absalom,  as  well  you  may. 
Explore  his  counsels.      Pick  up  what  you  can  ; 
And  send  it  to  me  by  some'  trusty  man. 
Thy  son,  and  his,  fit  messengers  may  be, 
To  bring  intelligence  from  you  to  me, 
I,  in  the  plain  above,  will  stay  until 
I  hear  from  you  how  things  go,  well  <jr  ill. 

Then  parting,  with  the  ark  the  priests  go  back  ; 
The  king  went  forward ;  tho'  with  pace  but  slack. 
Grief  now  seiz'd  deeper,  from  a  sense  that  he 
Must  from  the  ark  of  God  thus  banisli'd  be  ; 
And  that  by  his  own  son   (rebellious  child  ! 
To  whom  he'd  ever  been  but  over  mild) 
But  then  consid'ring  that  the  Lord  his  God 
Did  him  chastise,  in  mercy,  with  this  rod  ; 
He  call'd  to  mind  Uriah's  blood,  and  wept ; 
Watering,  with  tears,  the  ground  whereon  he  slept, 
Barefoot  he  went,  and  had  his  hoary  head 
(Sure  sign  of  highest  grief)  close  covered  ; 
But  when  he  had,  at  length  attain'd  the  top 
Of  Olivet,  he  there  did  make  a  stop, 
And  worshipped  the  Lord  with  humble  heart, 
Kissing  the  sacred  hand,  which  made  him  smart. 

While 


118  BAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

While  here  he  staid,  good  Hushai  came  to  meet  him, 
And  with  his  kind  condoling  strains  did  greet  him, 
Hushai,  his  faithful  servant,  and  true  friend, 
Whom  hearty  sorrow  made  his  garment  rend, 
And  earth  to  lay  upon  his  mournful  head, 
Hushai,  at  court,  to  courtly  counsels  bred  ; 
Hushai,  than  whom  king  no  servant  had, 
More  able,   nor  to  serve  his  lord  more  glad. 

The  king,   at  sight,  concluding  where  he  best 
Might  be  dispos'd  to  serve  his  interest, 
Said  to  him,   "  If  thou  passest  on  with  me, 
"  Thou  unto  me  shalt  but  a  burden  be. 
"  Go  therefore  to  the  city,  and  salute 
"   King  Absalom.     That  done,  prefer  thy  suit, 
"  That  thou  mayest  be  his  servant,  as  thou  wast 
"  His  father's  faithful  servant,  in  days  past. 
"  By  his  means  thou  the  counsels  of  the  great 
"  Ahithophel  mayest  for  my  good  defeat." 
Then  him  directing  how  he  might  convey 
Intelligence,  each  took  his  proper  way. 

Not  far  had  David  gone  beyond  the  top 
Of  Olives  mount,  when  he  another  stop 
Was  fain  to  make.     There  Ziba  ready  stood, 
Holding  too  asses,  laden  both  with  food, 
(Fine  manehet,  summer  fruits,  and  luscious  wine) 
Whereon  the  kj„o  might j  v  hen  he  ^eased,  dine. 

Well  might  the  king  suppose,  this  present  came 
From  his  friend's  son,   Mephibosheth  the  lame  ; 
Since  Ziba  brought  it  ;   who  full  well  lie  knew 
Was  steward  to  Mephiboshctii.    This  drew 
The  king  to  ask,  where  is  thy  master's  son, 
That  he  came  not  ?  False  Ziba  thereupon 
Reply'd  he  at  Jerusalem  doth  stay, 
Blown  up  with  hopes  ;  nor  did  he  stick  to  say,. 
Now  shall  the  house  of  Israel  restore 
To  me  the  crown  which  my  grandfather  wore, 
The  king,   not  Ziba's  treachery  suspe&ing, 
Too  easily  belie v'd  him  ;  and  reflecting 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  119 

On  the  detestable  ingratitude, 

Which  he  supposed  Mephibosheth    shew'd  ; 

Not  having  time  to  hear  the  cause,  forsook 

The  course  of  justice,  and  for  granted  took 

The  proofless  charge  of  a  designing  knave, 

And  thereupon  a  partial  judgment  gave  ; 

Whereby  he  from  the  innocent,  unheard, 

Took  all  he  had  ;  and  all  that  all  conferr'd 

On  the  unjust  accuser,  who  deserv'd 

A  rope  much  rather,  had  not  justice  swerv'd. 

The  fawning  traitor  having  sped  so  well, 

Upon  his  knees  before  king  David  fell ; 

And  full  o'th'  wond'rous  gratitude  he  feigri'd. 

Gave  thanks  for  what  his  treachery  had  gain'd. 

Near  Bahurim,  as  David  pass'd,  appear' d 
A  rude  insulter,  of  the  vulgar  herd, 
From  Saul  descended,  Shimei  by  name, 
Who  loudly  rail'd  and  cursed  as  he  came. 
"  Come  out,  said  he,  come  cut,  thou  man  of  blood, 
"  Thou  son  of  Belial  ;  who  too  long  hast  stood  ; 
"  The  Lord  hath  now  return'd  upon  thee  all 
**  The  guiltless  blood,  which  in  the  house  of  Saul 
"  Hath  by  thy  means,  been  shed.     The  kingdom  thou 
"  Usurped  hadst,  is  taken  from  thee  now, 
"  And  given  to  thy  son,     Thou  taken  art 
"  In  the  devices  of  thine  evil  heart." 

Nor  stay'd  he  here.      From  words  he  fell  to  blow..  : 
Both  dust  and  stones  he  at  King  David  throws, 
And  on  his  servants,  who  about  him  were 
On  either  side  ;  to  whom  'twas  hard  to  bear. 

Abishai,  David's  nephew,  seem'd  to  take 
This  most  to  heart ;  and  thus  the  king  bespake  : 
Why  should  this  dead  dog  curse  my  lord  the  king  ? 
JLet  me  go  to  him  ;  and  his  head  I'll  bring. 

But  David   (who,  altho'  right  well  he  knew, 
That  railing  Shimei's  charge  was  quite  untrue, 
So  far  as  he  unto  the  house  of  Saul 
Apply'd  it,  where  he  had  no  guilt  at  all : 

L  2  Yet 


120  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

Yet,  in  the  book  of  conscience,  daily  read 

His  guilt  and  doom,  for  blood  unjustly  shed  : 

Uriah's  blood,  for  which  he  knew  full  well 

This  judgment  from  the  Lord  upon  him  fell) 

Would  not  permit  Abishai,  for  his  sake, 

Vengeance  on  cursing  Shimei  to  take. 

"   Let  him  curse  on,   said  he  :   for  if  he  curse 

"   By  God's  command,  who  can  think  him  the  worse  ? 

"   Don't  you  behold,  said  he,   that  my  own  son, 

"   Who  from  my  bowels  sprang  (and  cause  hath  none) 

4*    Usurps  my  throne  :   hath  kindled  mortal  strife 

"  Amongst  my  subjects  ;  yea,  and  seeks  my  life  ? 

"   How  much  more  then  may  this  rude  Beinamite 

"   Be  borne  with,  though  he  do  me  great  despite  ! 

"  Let  him  alone.      If  God  hath  bid  him  curse, 

"   It  may,  perhaps,  for  me  be  ne'er  the  worse. 

M  Who  knows  but  that  the  Lord  on  me  may  look 

"  With  pity  ;  when  he  sees  how  well  I  took 

"  Th'  affliction  he  laid  on  me  ;  and  with  good 

"  May  me  requite,  for  Shimei's  cursing  mood*'* 

CHAP.  VI. 

Y  this  time  to  Jerusalem  was  come, 
In  royal  equipage,   King  Absalom  : 
Leading,  besides  his  train,  a  numerous  host 
Of  armed  men,  drawn  out  of  every  coast 

Amongst  his  friends,  who  made  the  greatest  haste 
Him  to  salute,  Hushai  was  not  «the  list. 
He,  coming  to  his  presence,  cry'd  aloud, 
God  save  the  king,   God  save  the  king  (and  bow'd) 
Under  which  words  he  might  his  meaning  hide, 
I?o:-  they  might  well  to  David  be  apply'd. 

Absalom  had  a  mind,  it  seems,  to  try 
Whether  he  safely  might  on  him  rely. 
Wherefore  he,  at  first  meeting,  on  him  play'd, 
And,  with  a  kind  of  exprobation,  said, 

How 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  121 

How  now  !   is  this  the  kindness  to  thy  friend  ! 

Why  went'st  thou  not,  that  thou  mightest  him  defend  ! 

Nay,  but  his  will  I  be,   Hushai  reply'd, 
Him  will  r  serve  ;  with  iiim  will  I  abide, 
Whom  God,  and  the  men  of  Israel  choose  : 
None  shall  me  of  unfaithfulness  accuse. 
Should  not  I  serve  in  presence  of  his  son, 
As  I  thy  father  serv'd   (now  he  is  gone) 
Surely,  as  I  was  then  at  his  command  : 
So  will  I  henceforth  in  thy  presence  stand. 
All  which  he  so  equivocally  spake, 
That  each  the  words  might  in  his  own  sense  take. 
Self-flatt'ring  Absalom,  elate  wich  pride, 
The  whole,  as  in  his  favour  meant,  apply'd. 
And  strait,  by  honest  guile,  in  part,  deceiv'd, 
Among  his  council  Hushai  he  reeeiv'd, 

A  council  called,  he  bid  them  think  upon 
The  work  ;   and  tell  him  what  should  first  be  done." 
Ahithophel   (who  would  not  take  it  Wv.ll, 
That  any,  but  himself  should  bear  the  bell) 
Stood  up,  and  Absalom  he  thus  be^pake  ; 
"  Thy  father's  concubines  direclly  take, 
u  And  in  mqst  public  manner  them  derile  ; 
"  Which  will  reputed  be  a  crime  so  vile, 
i(  That  nothing  ever  can  for  it  atone, 
«'   So  will  the  people  cleave  to  thee  alone." 
The  counsel  pleas'd  :   Absalom  lik'd  it  well. 
All  praise  their  oracle,  Ahithophel. 

Forthwith  a  tent  on  the  house-top,  was  spread, 
Where  Absalom  his  father's  wives  should  bed. 
He  did  so  ;  void  of  grace,  and  void  of  shame  ; 
And  public  kly  his  father  did  defame. 
By  which  the  sentence,  that  before,  from  heav'n, 
Was,  by  the  prophet,  unto  David  *  given, 
Was  now  fulfilled  ;  to  the  extent, 
May  the  example  still  the  like  prevent. 

Now 

*  a  Sana,  xii.  it 


122  DAVTDEIS.  Book  IV. 

Now  did  the  treacherous  Ahithophel 
(Finding  his  wicked  counsel  pleas' d  so  well) 
Proceed  to  consult  further.      "  Now  let  me 
*c  Forthwith  choose  out  twelve  thousand  men,  said  he, 
ce  And  go  on  the  pursuit  this  very  night, 
"  While  David's  weary,  and  unfit  to  fight. 
"  So  shall  we  strike  him,  and  his  men  with  fear, 
'*  That  they'll  forsake  him  ;  and  we'll  smite  i'th'  rear 
"  The  king  alone  (whom  only  thou  dost  lack 
"  To  be  cut  off)  and  bring  the  people  back." 

This  counsel  was  approved  of  by  all 
Then  present :  yet  King  Absalom  bid  call 
Hushai  the  Archite,  that  (said  he)  we  may 
Hear  also  what  he,  in  this  case,  can  say. 

Kushia  brought  in,  the  king  to  him  did  tell 
The  counsel  given  by  Ahithophel. 
Then  ask'd,  dost  thou  approve  it  ?   If  not,  shew 
Thy  reasons,  and  direct  us- what  to  do. 

The  wary  Archite  (knowing  very  well 
The  haughty  temper  of  Ahithophel  : 
That  he  might  not  be  thought  him  to  neglect) 
Exprest  his  mind  in  words  to  this  'effect 

Although  I  know,  of  all  that  fill  this  table, 
Ther^  is  not,  in  the  main,  a  man  more  able 
For  counsel,  than  the  great  Ahithophel, 
Who  doth  in  wisdom  others  far  excel  : 
Yet,  at  this  time,  and  in  the  present  case, 
I  must  confess,   I  cannot  go  his  pace. 
"  If  thou,  with  so  much  speed,  should  forward  rushv 
"  Thou'lt  hazard  ail  upon  too  sharp  a  push. 
"  Thy  father  is  a  man  of  war,  thou  know'st, 
**  And  will  not  lodge  at  night  among  the  host. 
n  He  now,  no  doubt,  is  in  some  pit  or  cave  ; 
"  W^here  he  himself,  from  a  surprize,  may  save. 
"   Besides,  both  he  and  all  his  men,  we  know, 
"  Are  mighty  men  of  valour  ;  and  will  show, 
**  When  once  engagM,  no  weariness  in  fight  ; 
"  But,  stung  with  fury,  will  exert  their  might : 

«  Chafe 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  122 

"  Chaff 'd  like  the  mountain  bear,  of  whelps  bereav'd, 

"  With  double  force,  as  doubly  they're  aggriev'd, 

"  They'll  deal  their  rage  around,  and  scorn  to  yield 

11  To  twice  ten  thousand  men  the  bloody  field. 

"  Whereas  thy  men,   undisciplin'd  and  raw, 

"  Too  likely  may,  when  firmly  stood,  withdraw, 

"  And  turn  the  back,  and  some  be  overthrown  : 

u  Which  when  it  shall  among  the  rest  be  known, 

"  Will  raise  a  rumour,  throughoui  all  the  hosl, 

"  That  Absalom  the  field  hath  wholly  lost  : 

"  And  where  that  rumour  takes,  it  will  prevail 

"  To  make  the  courage  of  the  stdi 

"   So  shalt  thou  lose  the  day  ;  and  either  die 

"   Upon  the  spot,  be  ta'en,  or  foic'd  to  fly. 

"  Which  to  prevent,  my  council  is  that  all 
"  The  men  of  Israel,  in  general, 
"  From  one  end  to  the  other,  of  the  land, 
"   Be  drawn  together,  like  the  imnumbei'd  sand 
•*  On  the  sea-shore  :   and  thou,  their  lord  and  head, 
"  Into  the  field  do  them,  in  person,  lead. 
"  So  shall  we  on  thy  father,  and  his  men, 
"   Fall,  like  the  dew  upon  the  ground,  and  then 
"  Nor  he,  nor  any  that  arc  w'th  him,  can 
"  Escape  our  hands  ;  we'll  have  tfaem  to  a  man.   | 

"   But  in  some  fort  should  he  himself  immure, 

"  We'll  there  invest  him  round;  till  ...  ; 

"  Ropes  to  the  place,  and  draw  it  ao.vn  by  force, 
"  And  sink  it  in  the  rapid  water-course." 

Thus  Hushai,  like  an  orator,  did  play 
Upon  his  hearers  weakness  ;  and  yet  they 
Did  not  perceive  it,   nor  his  purpose  see  ; 
But  prince  and  people  did  as  one  agree, 
That  Hushai's  counsel  did  by  far  excel 
The  counsel  given  by  Ahithophel. 
Nor  is  it  strange;   for  'twas  the  Lord  that  wrought 
This  change  in  them  ;  that  what  before  they  thought 
Was  good,  they  now  dislik'd  ;  that  he  might  bring 
Justice  on  Absalom  their  self-made  king. 

But 


124  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

But  when  Ahithophel  (who  ne'er  could  brook 
Competitor,  nor  on  a  rival  look, 
But  rack'd  with  envy,  to  behold  that  they 
Not  only  were  resolv'd  to  disobey 
His  counsel   (which  he  as  direction  gave  ; 
And  did  expect  applause,  and  thanks  to  have) 
But  Hushai's  counsel  did  to  his  prefer, 
(Not  able,  an  affront  so  high,  to  bear) 
Saddling  his  ass,  away  he  strait  did  trot ; 
And,  in  good  time,  to  his  own  city  got. 
Where,  having  wisely  settled  his  affairs, 
He  to  the' halter's  help,  with  speed,  repairs  : 
Which  having  firmly  fasten'd  to  a  rafter, 
He  stretch'd  his  neck  t'  avoid  affronts  hereafter ; 
There  let  him  hang,  while  we  look  back,  and  heed 
How  Hushai's  better  counsel  did  succeed. 

When  Hushai  had  done  speaking,  e'er  he  knew 
Hew  it  would  be  accepted,  he  withdrew  ; 
And  to  the  priests   (Zadock,"  Abiathar) 
Related  what  had  pass,  and  what  a  jar 
Had  been,  in  counsels,  'twixt  Ahithophel 
And  him  ;  and,  what  each  had  advis'd,  did  tell,      *    % 
But  not  yet  knowing  which  would  followed  be, 
He  wish'd  them  to  inform  the  king,  that  he 
Might  not  that  night  lodge  in  the  plain,  but  speed 
Him  e'er  the  river,  that  he  might  be  freed 
From  death  and  danger,  which  he  might  sustain, 
If  he  should  stay  till  morning  in  the  plain. 

The  priests  two  sons  without  the  city  staid, 
(For  to  be  seen  within  they  were  afraid) 
To  them  their  fathers,  by  a  certain  maid 
The  message  they  should  carry  strait  convey'd  ; 
Which  when  they  had  received,  away  they  hy'd 
Buc,  by  a  youth,  unhappily  were  spy'd, 
And  thereupon  pursued  ;  but  by  the  way, 
They,  in  a  well  conceal'd,  securely  lay  : 
A  matron  o'er  its  cover  having  spread, 
Ground  corn,  as  if  to  dry  for  making  bread  ; 

And 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  125 

And  when  the  coast  was  clear,  they  posted  on  ; 
And  told  the  message,  which  they  came  upon. 

David,  thus  warn'd,  arose  ;  and,  in  the  night, 
Past  over  Jordan.      By  the  morning  light 
He,  and  the  people  with  him,  all  were  gone: 
Nor  of  his  army  miss'd  they  any  one. 


CHAP.  VII. 


\ 


TO  Mahanahim  now  King  David  goes,     • 
His  friends  to  meet  with,  and  to  miss  his  foes. 
This  was  the  place  where  Jacob,  long  before, 
God's  angels  meeting  did  his  help  implore ; 
And  gave  it  then  this  name  ;  by  which  is  shown 
Two  hosts,  God's  host  of  angels,  and  his  own. 

Here  David  friendship  found,  and  was  supply'd 
With  needful  things,  while  he  did  here  abide  : 
Which  was  not  long,  Absalom  now  an  host 
Had  rais'd,  of  which  he  thought  he  well  might  boast, 
Over  his  army  he  Amasa  made 
His  general.     With  banners  then  display'd, 
He  over  Jordan  passsd,  a  rebel  right, 
Against  his  father,  and  his  king  to  fight. 

When  David  knew  that  his  son  Absalom, 
With  a  great  host,  was  over  Jordan  come, 
To  give  him  battle,  he  his  men  drew  forth  : 
Who,  though  not  many,  were  all  men  of  worth  : 
And,  though  his  army  was  but  small,  he  chose 
It  it  into  three  battalions  to  dispose. 
The  first  of  these  he  unto  Joab  gave  ; 
Abishai,  Joab's  brother,  was  to  have 
The  second  ;  noble  Ittai  led  the  third  : 
Second  to  none,  for  use  of  spear  and  sword. 
The  king  himself  intended  too  to  go 
At  head  of  them,  a?  gen'ralissimo  : 
But  that  the  people  by  no  means  would  yield) 
That  he  himself  should  hazard' in  the  field. 

They 


126  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

They  represented  that  the  enemy- 
Would  not  regard,  if  half  of  them  should  die 
So  much  if  they  him  could  take  or  slay  ; 
Therefore  they  begg'd  he  from  the  field  would  stay, 
.And,  if  occasion  should  require,  would  send 
Them  succours.      He  was  forc'd  to  condescend. 

But  when  they  march'd  away,  he  standing  bv, 
Shevv'd  a  paternal  passion  in  his  eye. 
His  bowels  roll'd  towards  his  graceless  son, 
And  (as  presaging  that  the  field  was  won) 
Thus  to  the  sev'ral  generals  he  spake  ; 
Deal  gently  with  the  young  man,  for  my  sake. 

The  field  now  taken,  and  the  battle  join'd, 
The  victory  to  David's  side  inclin'd  : 
But  not  without  a  cruel  slaughter  made 
Of  them  that  were  by  Absalom  betray'd 
Into  this  treason.      Twenty  thousand  fell 
On  his  side.      For,  although  he  did  excel 
In  number;  yet  they,  lighting  in  a  wood 
His  numbers  could  not  do  him  half  the  good, 
As,  in  an  open  'champain  plain,  they  might ; 
Where  they  could  every  man  have  come  to  light. 
Hopeless,  at  length  the  routed  rebels  flee, 
And  David's  men  pursue  them  eagerly. 

The  rebel  Absalom,  now  forc'd  to  run 
Where'er  his  fell  pursuers  he  might  shun, 
Confus'd  with  rage  and  horror,  guilt  and  fear* 
And  pushing  on  the  trackless  wood  to  clear, 
Amongst  the  boughs  of  a  thick-spreading  oak, 
ITio  head  was  caught,  and  fix'd  as  in  a  yoke. 
His  mule  went  on,  and  left  him  hanging  there, 
'Twixt  earth  and  heaven,  in  the  open  air  : 
Nor  could  he  free  himself,  his  bushy  hair, 
His  ornament  before,  was  now-his  snare. 
Him  hanging  thus,  a  certairt  soldier  saw  ; 
And  passing  by  him  with  respectful  awe, 
Hasted  to  Joab,  and  to  him  thus  spoke  : 
I  obscrve'd  Abs'lom  hanging  in  an  oak. 

An  cl 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  127 

And  didst  thou  !   Joab  said  ;  why  didst  not  smite 

Him  to  the  ground,  and  kill  him  there  outright  ? 

Hadst  thou  done  so,   I  would  have  kindly  dealt 

By  thee,  and  given  thee  a  soldier's  belt, 

Besides  ten  shekles.      O  !    cry'd  out  the  man, 

Though  I  a  thousand  shekels  might  have  wan, 

I  would  not  do't  !    for  I  did  plainly  hear 

Oar  lord  the  king  (whom  we  ought  all  to  fear) 

A  strict  charge  give,  that  none  should  dare  to  touch 

His  son,   so  as  to  hart  him.      And  'tis  much 

But  thou  thyself,  if  I  this  thing  had  done, 

Wouldst  have,  amongst  the  rest,  agai  ist  me  run. 

Jo'b  hastily  reply 'd,  and  struck  him  mute  : 

No  time  had  he  to  trifle  in  dispute. 

Three  darts  he  snatch'd,  and  eagerly  he  sprung 

To  where  the  prince  now  agonizing  hung  ; 

Against  him  he  directed  ev'ry  dart, 

And  pierc'd  him  thrice,  yet  living,  through  the  heart. 

Then  caus'd  his  armour  bearers,  ten  young   men, 

Out  right  to  kill  him  ;  which  they  did  ;  and  when 

He  saw  him  dead,  he  a  retreat  did  soun^, 

That  no  more  Hebrew  blood  might  stain  the  ground. 

Thus  fell  th'  usurper  Absalom.      Thus  fell 
He,   who  against  his  father  durst  rebel. 
Thus  fell  a  prince,  in  body,  and  in  mind 
So  well  accomplish'd,  that  he  seem'd  design'd 
For  government,   would  he  the  time  have  staid, 
And  not  his  royal  father's  throne  invade. 

But  blind  ambition  kindled  hot  d 
In  him,  and  set  his  boiling  blood  on  fire. 
He  thought  his  father  drew  too  long  his  b-eath, 
Nothing  would  serve  him  but  the  crown  or  death. 
The  crown  he  miss'd.      A  cruel  death  he  founS  ; 
Stabb'd,  hack'd  and  he  v'd,  with  many  a  ghastly  wound. 

His  mangled  body  to  a  filthy  pit, 
Near  to  the  place  he  fell  in,  th  7  commit  ; 
A.vk   without  ceremo  y,  load  his  bones, 
With  an  huge  heap  of  uudistiaguish'd  stones. 

M°  V* 


128  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

"Which  must  have  seiVd  him  for  a  monument, 
Had  not  he,  in  his  life-time,  with  intent 
To  keep  his  name  up,  having  then  no  son, 
Set  up  a  pillar  (with  his  name  thereon  : 
Which  unto  after  ages  did  remain  ; 
And  bore  his  name,  long  after  he  was  slain. 

The  field  thus  won,  and  the  unhappy  head 
Of  this  unnat'ral  insurrection,  dead  ; 
Their  care  was  next  what  cautious  terms  to  use, 
In  sending  to  the  king  th'  unwelcome  news. 

Some  strife  arose,  who  should  the  tidings  bear  ; 
And  divers,  for  the  office  forward  were. 
Young  Ahimaaz,  good  old  Zadock's  son, 
Of  Joab  begg'd  that  he  therewith  might  run  ; 
But  Joab  doubting  that  it  would  not  be 
Acceptable,  unwilling  was  that  he, 
Whom  he  well  lov'd,  should  go  ;  and  rather  chose 
One  less  respected  than  his  friend  t'expose. 
For  though  the  victory  was  cause  of  poy, 
The  death  of  Absalom  would  ih;it  destroy. 
He  therefore  bid  black  Cushi  go  and  tell 
The  king  the  matter,  just  as  it  befel. 
He  ran.      But  Ahimaaz  not  content, 
Unless  he  too  on  the  same  errand  went, 
Die:  press  so  hard,   for  leave  to  run,   that  he 
Got  leave  ;  but  by  mere  importunity. 
Then  setting  forth,  and  running  by  the  plain, 
He  so  much  ground  dd  of  the  blackmoor  gam, 
That  he  got  first  to  court ;  and  that  did  tell 
Which  needs  must  please  ;  for  he  said,  all  is  well. 

But  when  the  king,  whose  heart  was  set  upon 
The  welfare  of  his  disobedient  son, 
Ask'd  is  the  young  man  safe-  ?  poor  Ahimaaz, 
Not  k.:cwif!g  what  to  say,  did  on  him  gaze  : 
Loth  to  confess  what  he  could  not  deny, 
vet  well  knowing  how  to  put  it  by  : 
at  which,  with  the  king,  was  the  main  chance, 
He,  too  well  knowing,  pleaded  ignorance. 

The* 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  129 

Then  standing  by,  as  bid,  in  Cashi  ran, 
And  to  relate  his  message  thus  began. 

Tidings,  my  lord,  the  king  ;  for  thee  this  day 
The  Lord  avenged  hath  !    so  that  all  they 
That  rose  against  thee,   now  are  overcome. 
But  cry'd  the  king,  how  is't  with  Absalom  ? 
Say,  is  the  young  man  safe  ?  Cuslii  replies, 
So  may  it  be  with  all  thine  enemies, 
As  'tis  with  him. — This  David  understood, 
As  from  his  eyes  strait  gushed  forth  a  flood 
Of  melting  tears.      Paternal  pity  wrought, 
And  overwhelmed  each  prudential  thought. 
Up  stairs  he  went  ;  and,  as  he  went,  he  cry'd, 
O  my  son  Absalom  !   would  I  had  dy'd 
For  thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  ! 
And  thus  he  cry'd,  and  still  he  kept  alone. 
His  face  he  cover'd,  and  let  loose  the  rein 
To  boundless  grief ;  of  noble  acts  the  bane  : . 
This  turn'd  the  triumph,  proper  for  the  day, 
To  mourning.      The  brave  soldiers  slunk  away", 
As  men  ashamM.      They  who  the  held  had  won, 
Stole  in,  as  if  they  from  the  field  had  run. 

CHAP.  VIII. 

THIS  was  to  Joab  told,  who  weighing  well 
How  this  behaviour  might  the  courage  quell 
Of  all  the  army  ;  or  raise  discontent  ; 
Which  might  be  doubly  dang'rous  in  th'  event. 
(For  soldiers,  if  themselves  they  slighted  find, 
Will  shift  their  sides  as  nimbly  as  the  wind) 
He,  that  he  might  his  duty  not  forsake, 
Went  to  the  king,  and  soldier-like,  thus  spake. 
"  Thy  faithful  servants    (who  have  risquYl  their  lives 
"   Thee  to  preserve,  thy  children  and  thy  wives) 
"  Thou  shamed  hast,  by  shewing  thou  extends 
"  More  love  to  enemies  than  to  thy  friends. 

«  Thy 


ISO  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

"  Thy  carnage  this  day  she^ws,  thou  dost  not  heed 
"   Or  prince,  or  servant  ;   for,  in  very  deed, 
"   If  Absalom  had  liv'd,  'tis  plainly  seen, 
*'■  And  we  all  dy'd,  thcu  hadst  well  pleased  been. 
"  Wherefore,  arise,  go  forth,  and  kindly  speak 
"   TJuto  thy  servants  ;  else  away  they'll  break 
"   Before  the  morring  ;  for  I  boldly  dare 
"  Unto  thee,  by  the  Gcd  of  Isr'el,  swear, 
"  That,  if  thou  come  not  in  the  peoples  sight, 
"  There  will  not  tarry  one  with  thee  this  night. 
"  And  that  will  be  worse  to  thee,  I  avow, 
"  Than  all  the  evil  thou  hast  felt  till  now." 

By  this  bold  speech    (perhaps  more  necessary, 
Than  either  decent,  or  discreet  and  wary) 
Joab  so  rouz'd  the  king,  that  off  he  threw 
His  wailing  fit.     And  being  a  prince  that  knew 
To  his  condition  how  to  suit  his  hand, 
And  to  oblige  as  well  as  to  command  j 
He  hasten'd  down  into  the  city  gate, 
And  there,  as  heretofore,  in  public   sat. 
Which  known,  the  people    (who  before  had  fled 
Each  to  his  tent,  as  if  they  had  no  head) 
Now  fleck  unto  him,  and  with  deaf'ning  sound 
Of  jOyful  acclamations  him  surround. 

And  now  a  gallant  emulation  rose 
Amor.gst  the  tribes  ;  each  to  be  foremost  chose- 
In  shewing  their  affeclton  to  the  king, 
And  striving  him  in  triumph  home  to  bring. 
This  first  among  those  men  of  Isr'el  fell, 
('Tis  thought)  whom  Absalom  had  made  rebel, 
Who  that  they  might  wipe  off  the  guilt  and  stain 
Of  that  foul  crime,  and  credit  so  regain, 
Spurr'd  one  another  on,  and  seem'd  to  vie 
Which  should  most  signalize  his  royalty, 
In  bringing  back  the  king.      Who  they  now  praise, 
Recount  his  merits,  and  admire  his  ways. 

But  Judah,  his  own  tribe,  too  backward  were, 
And  too  regardless  of  the  common  care. 

This 


Book  IV.  DAVIDEIS.  131 

This  drowsy  negligence  did  grieve  the  king. 
That  therefore,  them  he  to  a  sense  might  bring 
Of  what  became  them,  he  a  message  sends 
To  Zadock  and  Abiathar,  his  friends  ; 
Commanding  they  should  to  the  elders  speak 
From  him  ;  and  thus  the  matter  to  them  break. 

"  Why  are  you  to  bring  back  the  king,  the  last  ? 
"  Why  ye  so  slow,  when  others  run  so  fast  ? 
"  Have  ye  forgot  that  ye  my  brethren  are, 
"  My  bones  and  flesh  (so  have  a  greater  share 
"  In  me  than  others  ?)   why  do  yet  let  slip 
"  The  season  ?  and  let  others  you  out-strip 
"  In  love  and  loyalty  ?  This  caution  take, 
"  And  to  yourselves  advantage  of  it  make." 

He  bid  them  also  to  Amasa  say, 
(Amasa  gen'ral  but  the  other  day, 
Of  all  the  rebels)    "  Art  not  thou  to  me 
'*  A  kinsman,  near  my  consanguinity  ? 
"   Return  to  thy  allegiance  without  dread, 
**  And  be  my  general,  in  Joab's  stead." 

By  these,  and  other  such,  engaging  arts, 
Pie  wrought  so  strongly  on  the  peoples  hearts, 
That  Judah,  sensible  they  had  been  slack, 
Now  hasten'd  to  him,  to  conduct  him  back. 

Got  over  Jordan  Shimei  was  the  first 
(Shimei,  by  whom  he  was  so  lately  curs'd 
And  rudely  treated)   who  the  tide  thus  turn'd, 
Contrary  to  his  expectations,  mourn'd, 
Or  seem'd  to  mourn  ;  perhaps  the  crafty  ki 
Might  sorrow  feign,  his  guilty  head  to  save  ; 
His  guilt  and  danger  now  impell'd  him  in, 
To  beg  King  David's  pardon  for  his  sin. 

He  therefore,  pushing  in  with  Judah  led 
A  thousand  Benjamites,  himself  the  head  ; 
To  shew,  perhaps,  what  interest  he  had 
(Which  was  the  worse  in  one  that  was  so  bad) 
Or  if  occasion  were,  his  cause  to  plead, 
And  for  him  with  the  king  to  intercede. 

M  2  This 


132  DAVIDEIS.  Book  IV. 

This  traitor  was 'the  first  who  met  the  king, 

And  on  hk  knees  Peccavi  thus  did  sing. 

"   Let  not  my  gracious  lord  the  king,   said  he, 

"   Impute  this  day  iniquity  to  me  ! 

"   Nor  bear  in  mind  what  I  perversly  said, 

"  And  did  against  him,  when  he  was  betray'd  I 

"  For  I,  thy  servant  know,  that  I  therein 

"  Am  guilty  of  an  execrable  sin. 

"   Therefore  I,  with  the  iirat,  am  hither  come, 

"  To  wait  upon  my  lord,  and  bring  him  home. 

"   Pardon,  my  lord,   O  king,  my  fault  I  pray, 

"  Let  me  find  mercy  at  thine  hand  this  day." 

Before  the  king  could  any  answer  make, 
Abishai,  Zeruiah's  forward  son  thus  spake. 
What  !    shall  not  Shimei  be  put  to  death  ! 
That  rebel  Shimei  who  with  pois'nous  breath, 
Did  rail  upon,  and  curse  the  Lord's  anointed  ! 
What,  less  than  death,  can  be  to  him  appointed J 

This  sounded  harshly  in  good  David's  ear, 
And  that  to  him  he  quickly  made  appear. 
For,   "  What,  said  he,  have  I  with  you  to  do, 
"  Ye  busy  sons  of  Zeruiah,  that  you 
"   On  all  occasions,  still  contrive  to  be, 
"  As  much  as  in  you  lies,  averse  from  me  ? 
"   Shall  any  man  be  put  to  death  this  day 
"   In  Israel  ?  The  Lord,  and  I,   say  nay, 
4<   For  have  not  I,  think  ye,  good  cause  tovkncp? 
**  That  I  so  lately  near  an  overthrow, 
il   Still  king  of  Israel  am,  by  heav'n's  grace  ! 
«  Which  should  with  you,  as  well  as  me,  have  place.. 
"   For  since  the  Lord  this  day  doth  me  restore 
"   Unto  the  throne  on  which  I  sat  before, 
"  It  ought  to  be  a  day  of  thankful  joy, 
"  Which  no  sad  execution  should  annoy. 
k'  Then  turning  unto  Shimei,  thou,  said  he, 
"   Shalt  not  be  put  to  death  for  this  by  me." 


THE  END  OF  THE  FOURTH  BOOK* 

DAVIDEIS 


DAVIDEIS 

BOOK  V. 

CHAPTER    I. 


AMONG  the. rest,  whom  love,  or  int'rest,   drew 
To  meet  the  king,  false  Ziba  Came  :   who  knew, 
When  once  his  master  came  in  David's  sight, 
His  base  deceit  wauld  then  be  brought  to  light. 
That  therefore  he  might  still  retain  the  ] 
He  had,  by  falsehood  gain'd,  in  David's  gTace  ; 
He,   with  his  fifteen  sons,  and  twenty  men, 
Can:?,  with  pretence  to  bring  him  home  again. 

But  now  Mephibosheth    (who  being  lame, 
Was  not  so  nimble)   in  due  season  came, 
To  clear  himsslf  from  Ziba's  false  report, 
And  on  the  wretch  his  treachery  retort. 

When  David  ask'd,  why  went  thou  not  with  me, 
Mephibosheth  ?   "  My  lord,   O  king,   said  he, 
"  My  faulty  servant  Ziba,  me  deceiv'd  : 
"  And  hapless  me,  he  of  his  help  bereav'd. 
"   I  order'd  him  to  saddle  me  an  ass, 
**  That  I  thereon  unto  the  king  might  pass, 
M  Not  able  else  to  go.      Away  he  slipt, 
"  And  me  of  means  to  follow  wholly  stript. 
"  Nor  is  that  all ;  but  he  hath  slander'd  too 
4t  Thy  servant  to  my  lord,  with  words  untrue. 
"   But  well  I  know,  my  lord  the  king  is  wise  : 
"  Do  therefore  what  shall  seem  good  in  thine  eyes, 
"  I  plead  no  merit  :  All  I  have  I  place 
"  To  the  account  of  thine  abundant  grace. " 

Enough  ? 


134  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V, 

Enough  !   reply'd  the  king,  my  word  shall  stand ; 
Thou  and  thy  servant  shall  divide  the  land. 

Thus  having  wrong'd  Mephibosheth  before, 
In  stripping  him,  unheard,  of  all  his  store  : 
That  wrong  he  by  a  somewhat  less  wrong  salves, 
And  doth  the  wrong'd  mar,  justice  but  by  halves. 

Mephibosheth  not  oily   was  most  clear 
From  Ziba's  charge,  as  plainly  did  appear  ; 
But  also  had  so  true  a  mourner  been, 
For  David's  trouble,  that  he  ne'er  was  seen 
To  dress  his  feet,  though  lame  ;  nor  trim  his  beard  ; 
Nor  in  clean  linen  ever  had  appear'd 
To  cheer  his  body,  from  the  very  day 
In  which  the  king,  distressed,  went  away, 
Until  the  day  lie  came  again  ;  which  made 
His  case  the  harder,  being  duly  weigh'd. 
Yet  he,  good  man,   for  ;uv   the  king  was  come, 
In  peace  and  safety,  to  his  royal  home, 
Regardless  what  might  to  himself  befal, 
Cry'd,  ay,  let  Ziba,  if  he  w:13,   take  all. 

We  heard  before  of  certain  rren,  that  came 
To. bring  the  king  supplies  a::  Mahanaim  ; 
Of  these  Barzillai  was,  the  Gileadite  ; 
Who  did  the  king  support  wit!)  great  delight, 
The  sense  whereof  did  so  affect  the  king, 
That  to  Jerusalem  he  fain  would  bring 
The  good  old  man  ;  that  there  he  might  have  shew'd 
The  highest  marks  of  royal  gratitude. 

But  good  Barzillai  did  to  go  refuse, 
And  by  his  hoary  age  himself  excuse. 
"  I  am,  said  lie,  full  fourscore  years  of  age, 
"  And  therefore,  with  good  reason,  may  presage 
i:   My  days  cannot  be  many.      I  am  pa;t 
"  The  pleasures  of  a  court,   I  cannot  taste 
•'  My  food  with  relish.      'Twere  an  oversight 
"   For  me  in  vocal  music  to  delight. 
•*  My  ears  too  heavy  to  distinguish  sounds, 
"  And  me  the  harbinger  of  death  surrounds. 

«<  Whv 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  135 

"   Why  then  should  I  a  further  bm  den  be 

"  Unto  my  lord  the  king  !    oh  no  !   let  me 

44  Wait  on  thee  over  Jordan,  and  return 

"   Unto  my  city,  and  my  parents  urn  : 

"  That  there,  amongst  my  people,   I  may  die, 

"   Aad  in  my  parents  sepulchre  may  lie. 

"   But  lo,  my  son,  thy  servant  Chimham,  he 

"   Shall  wait  upon  my  lord,  and  always  be 

"  At  thy  command.      Him  to  thee  I  commit : 

"  And  thou  rnayst  do  to  him  what  thou  thinks  nt." 

That  I'll  perform,   said  David,  and  to  thee 
Will  give  besides  what  thou  shalt  ask  of  me. 
This  said,  the  good  old  man  he  kindly  kist, 
And  with  his  royal  blessing  him  dismist. 

Then  mareh'd  he  on,  attended  very  well, 
By  Judah,  and  one  half  of  Israel. 
That  half,  or  part,  be  it  suppos'd  to  be, 
Which  was  not  from  the  late  rebellion  free  : 
And  therefore  now  would  more  officious  seem, 
That  they  their  shaken  credit  might  redeem. 

But  now  again  a  fresh  contention  rose 
Between  them,  which  of  friends  soon  made  them  foes. 

These  men  of  Isr'el  could  not  now  contain 
Their  anger  ;  but  did  to  the  king  complain 
Of  Judah,  that  they  stole  from  them  the  king*, 
That  they  alone  might  him  o'er  Jordan  bri 
The  ground  of  which  they  did  not  understand  ; 
And  therefore  did  their  reasons  now  demand. 

The  men  of  Judah  briskly  answer'd  thus  : 
Because  the  king  is  near  a  kin  to  us. 
More  brisk  than  true.      David,  indeed,  was  so  ; 
But  not  as  king.      Kings  are  a  kin,   we  know, 
To  all  their  subjects  :   and  alike  to  all, 
That  faithful  are  to  them,  both  great  and  small. 
Why,  added  Judah,  do  ye  then  contend? 
We  did  our  duty  without  selfish  end  : 
We  neither  eat  at  the  king's  charge,  nor  yet 
Receiv'd  from  him  a  gift,  or  benefit. 

But 


136  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V. 

But  we   (the  men  of  Israel  reply M) 
Have  that  to  say  which  will  the  cause  decide  : 
For  we  have  ten  parts  in  the  king  ;  while  you 
Cannot  pretend,  at  most,  to  more  than  two. 
Why  then,  since  we  the  greater  number  are, 
Did  ye  despise  us  ;  ana  proceed  so  far 
As  to  bring  back  our  sovereign  lord  the  king, 
Without  consulting  us  ;  and  thereby  bring 
Contempt  upon  us  ?  thus  they  brawl  and  chide, 
And  toss  the  fiery  ball  from  side  to  side. 
But  Judahrs  words,  in  this  contention  fell 
More  hot  and  fierce,  than  those  of  Israel. 

CHAP.  II. 


HOW  needful  'tis  hot  anger  to  suppress, 
Wrath  to  repel  ;  for  wrath  is  all  excess  ! 
Nor  to  give  way  to  passion  !   Nor  too  high 
Resent  an  apprehended  injuryr ! 
Much  less  to  let  the  tongue,  upon  debate, 
Break  loose  in  words,  which  may  exasperate. 

(ten  words,  like  flint  and  steel,  strike  fire, 
And  thereby  the  contention  raise  the  higher. 
So  have  I  seen  what  from  a  sparkle  came, 
Biovfh,  by  hot  breath,  into  a  furious  name- 
Thus,   in  the  present  contest,  it  betel 
The  men  of  Judah  and  of  Israel. 
The  men  of  Isr'el  did  resent  too  high 
A  slight  offence  :   Judah  at  them  let  fly 
A  thuud'iing  volley,  in  such  cutting  words, 
As  wounded  deeper  thrm  the  sharpest  swords  ; 
And  made  the  Ik-'elities  almost  repent, 
Tint  e'er  to  wait  upon  the  keig  tl  ey  went. 

This  beirg  olserv'd  by  She!  a,   Bichri's  son, 
A  Benjajnite,  who  thither  that  day  run 
Amongst  the  rest,  5©t. willing  to  let  go 
So  lit  a  time  his  ft   '\      -i.lrA  to  show, 

He 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  *37 

He  blew  a  trumpet  ;  and  each  Israelite 
To  fresh  rebellion  did  thus  invite  : 

"  No  part  have  we  in  David  ;  nor  possess 
"  We  any  share  now  in  the  son  of  Jess' 
*'  Wherefore,   O  Isr'el,  to  your  tents  betake 
"  Yourselves  forthwith  ;  and  Jesse's  son  forsake." 

So  spake  this  man  of  Belial ;  and  so  did 
The  men  of  Isr'el  ;  strait  away  they  slid 
From  David  ;  and  with  nimble  paces  run 
After  rebellious  Sheba,  Bichri's  son. 
But  Judah  clave  intirely  to  their  king, 
And  him  in  honour  safely  home  did  bring. 

When  thus  retum'd  the  first  thing  by  him  done, 
Was  to  shut  up  those  concubines  his  son 
Defiled  had  ;   to  whom  he  did  allot 
Fit  maintenance  ;  but  thenceforth  us'd  them  not.^ 

That  done,  he  did  Amasa  to  him  call 
(Whom  he  design'd  to  make  his  general) 
And  bid  him  all  the  men  of  Judah  raise, 
And  draw  them  up  before  him,  in  three  days. 
Away  Amasa  went,  but  longer  staid  ; 
Although  what  haste  he  could  he  doubtless  made. 
The  king,  uneasy  at  Amasa's  stay, 
(Knowing  danger  rises  from  delav) 
Abishai  to  him  call'd,  and  bid  him  take 
The  forces  ready.     After  Sheba  make 
With  all  the  speed  he  could  ;  lest  he  should  get. 
The  fenced  towns,   his  treason  to  abet. 

Out  march'd  Abishai,  leading  Joab's  men, 
The  Cherethites  and   Pelethites  ;  but  when, 
Upon  the  way,  Amasa  in  did  fall, 
He  took  the  chief  command  as  general. 

Joab,  not  by  the  king  expressly  sent, 
Yet  loving  aclion,  with  his  soldiers  went, 
And  envying  Amasa  (as  indeed 
He  envy'd  all,  who  might  himself  succeed) 
He  managM  so,  that,  from  its  sheath,  his  sw^rd 
Dronp'd  unawares*  as  of  its  own  accord  ;  «   **  "*r« 

And 


138  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V. 

And  quick,  as  though  he  would  not  seem  to  stand, 
He  snateh'd  it  up,  and  bore  it  in  his  hand. 

Amasa  saw  it ;  but  suspected  not 
That  Jo'b  therein  against  him  had  a  plot. 
For,   taking  it  to  be  an  accident, 
He  was,  for  his  own  safety,  less  intent. 
Joab  advanced.      And  under  feigned  show 
Of  kindness,  ask'd  him,  brother,  how  dost  do  ? 
And  kissing  him,  most  treacherously,  the  while 
A  deadly  wound  he  gave  him,  with  a  smile. 
Out  dropp'd  his  bowels  :   there  Amasa  lay, 
Welt'ring  in  gore,  amidst  the  public  way, 
So  dy'd  a  great  and  valliant  man  ;   so  fell, 
By  treachery,  a  prince  in  Israel. 

On  Joab,  with  Abishai  went,  in  quest 
Of  Sheba,  leaving  one,  to  tell  the  rest, 
That  he,   who  favoured  Joab,  and  who  was 
For  David,  after  Joab  on  should  pass. 
Which,   notwithstanding,  as  the  men  drew  nigh 
The  place,  where  murder 'd  Amasa  did  lie, 
They  made  an  halt ;   nor  would  a  step  advance  ; 
But  gazing  stood,  like  people  in  a  trance. 
Which  one  observing,  quickly  (as  behov'd) 
Amasa's  corps,  out  of  the  way  remov'd, 
Ir.ro  a  field,  and  cover' d  it  ;  which  done. 
Tht  warlike  people  after  Joab  run. 

ba  mean  while,  through  all  the  tribes  had  past, 
And  to  the  city  Abel  came  at  last  ; 
His  kindred  Be'rites  join'd  him  on  the  way, 
To  share  with  him  the  fortune  of  the  day. 
H  re  Sheba  fix'd  ;  the  place  was  fortify 'd, 
Here  Jo'b  besieg'd  him,  and  his  force  apply'd. 
Sh  ba,  within,  resolves   (but  all  in  vain) 
The  town  against  th'  assailants  to  maintain. 

ge  grows  hot,  the  engines  shake  the  wall  : 
T  xt  assault  is  like  to  make  it  fall. 

Which  done,  the  furious  soldiers  strait  rush  in 
With  sword  in  hand,  and  so  the  city  win. 

Un- 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  1 

Unthinking,  in  their  heat  the  people  slay, 
And  afterwards,  they  seize  upon  the  prey. 

Forseeing  this,  a  prudent  city  dame, 
Strait  to  prevent  it,  on  the  bulwark  came  ; 
And  cry'd  to  the  besiegers,  hear,  O  hear, 
And  speak,  I  pray,  to  Joab  to  come  near, 
That  we  may  treat  a  little — Strait  he  came, 
(Not  thinking  much  to  parly  with  a  dame, 
Rough  though  he  was)   she  his  attention  won, 
An  ancient  custom  urging,  thus  begun. 

"  In  old  time  they  (said  she)  were  wont  to  say, 
"  At  Abel,  surely,  they  will  counsel  pray  ;" 
And  so  the  matter  ended — Thus  she  tripp'd 
This  bold  commander,  who  thro'  haste  had  slipp'd 
The  law  of  *  Heraldry  ;  which  did  provide, 
That  peace  should  first  be  ofFer'd,  fair  means  try'd, 
Before  a  siege  was  laid.      Which  had  he  done, 
He  needed  not  this  hostile  course  have  run. 

Thus  having  gently  pinched  him,  becauee 
He  had  not  well  obscrv'd  the  Fecial  laws  ; 
She  told  him,  though  her  citizens,  and  she, 
Both  faithful  were  and  peaceable  ;  yet  he 
Sought  to  destroy  a  city,  known  full  well 
To  be  a  mother  too  in  Israel. 
Then  ask'd  him  how  he  could  the  siege  advance*, 
To  swallow  up  the  Lord's  inheritance. 

This  startled  Joab.      Far  be  it  from  me, 
That  I  unjustly  should  destroy,  said  he  1 
The  matter  is  not  so.      But  ye  protect 
A  rebel,   who  king  David  doth  reject. 
The  son  of  Bichri,   Sheba  is  his  name, 
(To  you,  and  all  true  Isr'elities,  a  shame) 
Deliver  him  alone,  and  I,  in  pity 
To  you,  will  raise  my  siege,  and  free  your  city* 

Nay,  said  the  woman,  sure,  if  that  be  aG, 
His  guilty  head  we'll  throw  thee  o'er  the  vmL 

N  T 

*  Deut.  xx.  io. 


140  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V 

Then  to  her  citizens  the  woman  went, 

And  did  to  them  so  wisely  represent 

The  case,  their  danger ;  which  so  close  she  put, 

Th  t  horn  his  shoulders  Sheba's  head  they  cut, 

And  it  immediately  to  Joab  threw  ; 

Who  seeing  that,  a  peaceful  trumpet  blew, 

They  rais'd  the  siege,  and  to  their  tents  retir'd, 

And  much  the  matron's  wisdom  all  admir'd. 


CHAP.  III. 

THESE  two  rebellions  quelled,  which  of  late 
Gave  such  disturbance  to  the  civil  state  ; 
Ihe  court  new  modell'd  was,  removes  were  made 
O    Ministers,  some  old  aside  were  laid. 
Only  fierce  Joab  (who  was  more  bold 
Tha a  welcome  to  the  king)  his  place  will  hold. 

A  standing  army  David  muster* d  then, 
Consisting  of  three  hundred  thousand  men, 
Which  into  twelve  I  rigades  d.vided  were, 
Answering  to  the  twelve  months  of  the  year. 
In  each  brigade  were  twice  twelve  thousand,  and 
A  thousand  officers  did  them  command. 
These  took  their  turns,  in  time  of  peace,  to  be 
A  month  on  duty,  and  eleven  free; 
And  as  their  month  return'd,  in  every  year, 
Did  each  brigade,  at  court,  in  arms  appear, 
But  all,  in  time  of  war,  did  ready  stand, 
On  sound  of  trumpet  to  obey  command. 
These  to  the  field  King  David  often  drew, 
His  enemies,  on  all  sides,  to  subdue. 

Four  fields  he  with  the  Philistines  did  fight, 
To  each  of  which  they  brought  a  man  of  might, 
An  Anakim,  one  of  Goliah's  race  ; 
Whom  David's  warriors  did  not  only  chase, 
But  si,  gle  hai  ded  did  them  singly  slay  ; 
And,  each  time,  bore  the  victory  away. 

We 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  141 

We  read  of  British  Arthur,  and  his  table 
Of  warlike  knights   (which  some  account  a  fable, 
But  grant  it  true)   they  never  might  compare 
With  David's  worthies,  as  their  deeds  declare. 
Which  whoso  list's  may,  if  he  please  to  look, 
Read  at  his  leisure,  in  the  sacred  book. 

Not  less  concerned  was  this  pious  king 
God's  honour  to  promote  ;  his  praise  to  sing  ; 
Advance  his  worship  ;  celebrate  his  name  ; 
And  others,  with  like  godly  zeal,  inflame. 

The  ark  of  God  (which  long  before  had  been 
The  scorn  and  scourge  of  the  proud  Philistine, 
And  with  Abinadab  had  since  remain'd  ; 
Who  for  his  entertaining  it  had  gain'd 
Great  blessings  from  the  Lord)   the  zealous  king, 
With  Israel  and  Judah,  went  to  bring 
Unto  Jerusalem  ;  but  through  mistake, 
Erring,  the  sacred  law  they  plainly  brake. 

The  Levites   (son3  of  Kohath)  ought  to  bear 
The  ark  upon  their  shoulders.     They,  to  spare 
Their  shoulders   (learning  the  Philistine  art) 
Stick  not  to  clap  the  ark  into  a  cart. 
God's  ark  they  trust  to  stumbling  oxen,  which 
Might  have  the  ark  o'erthrown  into  a  ditch. 
The  oxen  stumbling,  caus'd  the  ark  to  shake  ; 
Well  meaning  Uzzah  care  thereof  doth  take  : 
Puts  forth  his  hand,  and  holds  it,  lest  it  fall, 
And  instants  dies,  which  terrifies  them  all. 

The  Lord's  a  sovereign  Prince  ;  and  wont  permit, 
That  man  shall  vary  from  his  law  a  whit. 
The  law  was  plain  and  easy  ;  all  must  say, 
The  fault  upon  the  Levites  only  lay. 
Displeas'd  was  David,  that  through  their  defau't 
This  sudden  death  was  on  poor  Uzzah  brought. 
And  since  the  stroke  by  God  himself  was  given, 
Much  David  fear'd  the  majesty  of  heav'n, 
Lest  of  the  matter  he  should  disapprove, 
As  well  as  manner,  e'en  the  ark '* remove. 

Not 


142  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V. 

Not  daring  therefore  at  that  time  to  bring 
The  ark  unto  Jerusalem,  the  king 
Left  it  at  Obed-Edom's  ;  who  was  blest, 
During  the  time  the  ark  with  him  did  rest. 

But  three  months  after,  on  maturer  thought, 
The  ark  into  Jeiusalem  was  brought 
In  its  due  order  ;  and  was  placed  there 
In  a  fair  teat,  which  David  did  prepare. 
For  he,  before  he  would  attempt  again, 
What  he,  before  had  enterpriz'd  in  vain, 
Convening  priests  and  Levites,  did  declare, 
None  but  the  Levites  ought  the  ark  to  bear  ; 
Being  therefore  charg'd  themselves  to  sanctify, 
That  to  the  ark  they  safely  might  draw  nigh, 
And  take  it  up  ;  which  had  they  done  before, 
They  had  not  ouifer'd  what  they  now  deplore. 
Then  on  they  go,  and,  as  they  go,  rejoice, 
Accomp'n'ing  instruments  with  sound  of  voice. 

But  none,  of  all  the  cornparv,  more  glad 
Appear'd  to  be,  tha     David  ;  who  was  clad 
In  linen  ephod,  and  did  leap  and  dance 
Before  the  ark,  with  joyful  countenance. 

i  his  da  cing,  David  'spi  >. 
q  hi  -   wit!  t-t, 

Brake  forth  in  taunting  terms.      For  which  she  was 
Condemn 'd  her  life  in  barreness  to  pass  ; 
Sore  punishment  indeed  !    which  her  did  bind 
From  bearing  him,  who  was  to  save  mankind. 
The  ark  thus  brought,  and  with  triumphant  grace 
And  due  devotion  settled  in  its  place, 
The  pious  king,  who  did  before  it  dance, 
Now  studied  how  God's  honour  to  advance, 

The  priests  and  Levites  he  dispos'd  in  courses 
(As  he  before  had  done  his  martial  forces) 
To  each  his  proper  service  he  assign'd, 
Which  they  should  execute  with  willing  mind. 
Some  to  burnt-off  ritigfi  and  sacrifices, 
With  rites  belonging  to  those  exercises. 

c. 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  143 

On  instruments  of  musick,  some  to  play, 

And  praise  the  Lord,  upon  each  solemn  day. 

To  prayer  some.      Some  to  give  thanks.      Some  bles!s 

The  Lord  and  seek  his  wonders  to  express. 

Nor  staid  he  here.     His  right  religious  mind, 
To  build  an  house  for  Isr'el's  God,  inclin'd, 
A  sacred  temple  he  design'd  to  build, 
Which  with  majestick  glory  should  be  fill'd. 

This  godly  purpose  of  his  royal  heart 
The  pious  king  to  Nathan  did  impart :  m 

The  godly  prophet,  of  the  motion  glad, 
That  he  might  strength  to  his  intentions  add, 
(Too  hastily,  without  command)  said  go, 
And  what  is  in  thine  heart  to  do,  that  do  ; 
For  God  is  with  thee.     The  good  man  in  this, 
Through  strong  desire  to  have  it  done,  did  miss, 

For  that  same  night  the  Lord  his  prophet  bid. 
Go  tell  his  servant  David  (which  he  did) 
That  in  thine  heart  it  was,  an  house  to  raise 
To  me  wherein  to  clebrate  my  praise  ; 
I  take  it  well.      But  therefrom  thou  art  freed: 
Thy  will,  by  me,  is  taken  for  the  deed. 
Thou  shalt  not  build  the  house  ;  for  thou  has  led 
Great  armies  to  the  field,  much  blood  hast  shed. 
But  when  thy  head  is  laid,  a  peaceful  king, 
Who  of  thy  seed,  and  from  thy  loins  shall  spring, 
Shall  build  my  house  ;  which  must  be  built  in  peace. 
Who  builds  for  God,  from  war  and  blood  must  cease-, 

Submissive  David,  with  an  humble  mind, 
Intirely  to  the  will  of  God  resign'd  ; 
In  solemn  manner,  did  to  God  express 
His  hearty  thanks,  and  his  great  name  did  bless  : 
And  still,  with  diligence,  himself  apply'd, 
Materials  for  the  building  to  provide, 
Gold,  silver,  precious  stones,  brass,  iron,  wood 
Of  divers  sorts  ;  whatever  seemed  good 
For  choicest  use,  he  in  abundance  stor'd, 
Won,  from  his  enemies,  by  dint  of  sword, 

N  2  To 


144  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V. 

To  which  he  added  so  much  of  his  own, 
As  drew  his  princes   (when  it  once  was  known) 
Chief  fathers,  captains,  rulers  to  express, 
By  their  free  offerings,  their  thankfulness. 
All  which  the  king  to  Solomon  demis'd, 
With  such  instruction  as  the  Lord  advis'd  ; 
Assigning  to  each  part  its  proper  use, 
To  build  and  ornament  the  sacred  house. 


CHAP,  IV. 

DURING  the  reign  of  David,  there  had  been 
Three  years  successively   (no  ease  between) 
A  raging  famine  ;  which  did  sore  oppress 
The  Isr'ehtes,  and  brought  them  to  distress. 

The  long  duration  of  this  pinching  dearth 
(Which  pin'd  the  people,  and  defac'd  the  earth) 
Made  David,  of  the  Lord,  the  cause  enquire. 
Which  agamst  Isr'el,  had  provok'd  his  ire. 
The  answer  was,  it  was  for  faithless  Saul, 
And  for  his  bloody  house,  this  plague  did  fall 
Upon  the  people  ;  which,  perhaps,  was  due, 
Since,  by  their  help,  the  Gibeonites  he  slew. 

How,  when,  or  why,  he  did  this  fact  commit, 
Is  not  deliver'd  in  the  sacred  writ. 
Wc  o  ily  read,  he  did  it  in  his  zeal 
For  Israel's  and  Judah's  common-weal. 

Some  think  it  was,  when  he  the  witches  slew, 
And  sought  t'  exterminate  th'  infernal  §  crew  : 
Tho'  when  e'en  that  was  done,  is  not  so  clear 
From  holy  writ,  to  be  ascertained  here. 

The  Gibeonites  were  not  of  Israel, 
Although  they  with  the  Isr'elites  did  dwell. 
They  of  the  Amorite,  a  Remnant  were, 
A  people,  Isr'ePs  sword  was  not  spare. 


Which 


§  I  Sam,  xxvlii. 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  14S 

Which  they  fore-knowing,  by  a  crafty  wile, 
Good  Joshua,  and  the  princes,  did  beguile. 

These  feigning  that  Ambassadors  they  came 
From  a  far  country,  did  a  story  frame  ; 
That  they  so  long  had  en  their  journey  heen, 
That  their  provisions   (which  was  plainly  seen) 
Were  grown  corrupt.     Their  bread,    which  hot  from 

home 
They  said  they  brought,  was  mouldy  now  become. 
Old  leathern  bottles  rent  and  bound  they  shew  ; 
Which  they  affirm'd,  when  they  set  out  were  new. 
Their  tatter'd  clothes,  and  clouted  shoes,  did  make 
The  Isr'elites  give  heed  to  what  they  spake. 
And,  being  by  this  stratagem  betray'd, 
An  unadvised  legaue  they  with  them  made, 
To  let  them  live  :   and  all  the  princes  sware 
By  Isr'el's  God  ;  whose  justice  will  not  spare 
The  man,  or  people,  that  in  vain  shall  take 
His  sacred  name  ;  but  them  examples  make. 

Well  near  four  hundred  years  this  league  was  kept 
Inviolate,  till  all  the  judges  slept ; 
And  the  good  prophet  Samuel  was  gone 
To  rest ;  and  wicked  Saul  yet  filPd  the  throne, 
And  probably  it  was  not  very  long 
Before  his  end,  he  did  this  cursed  wrong. 
For  it  had  early  been,  it  may  be  thought 
The  punishment  had  in  his  time  been  brought. 

When  now  king  David,  on  enquiry,  knew 
What  'twas,  that  on  this  land  the  judgment  drew  ; 
He  call'd  the  Gibeonites,  and  bid  them  say, 
What  they  would  have  him  do  to  take  away 
The  guilt  of  blood.     And  how  he  might  atone 
For  the  injustice  Saul  to  them  had  done  : 
That  satisfaction  given,  they  might  bless 
The  Lord's  inheritance,  with  such  success, 
That  he  appeased,  might  his  heavy  hand 
Remove,  and  smile  again  upon  the  land. 

For 


146s  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V, 

For  justice  God  rewards.     And  therefore  he, 
How  low  soe'er  the  wronged  party  be, 
Will  righted  have,  before  he  will  remove 
The  rod,  wherewith  he  doth  chastise  in  love, 
The  Gibeonites  reply'd,  'tis  not  our  will, 
That,  for  our  sakes,  thou  any  man  should  kill 
In  Israel  ;  nor  Saul's  possessions  crave. 
The  only  thing  which  we  desire  to  have, 
The  man  who  us  so  cruelly  annoy'd, 
And  who  would  us  intirely  have  destroy'd, 
Let  seven  of  his  sons,  without  delay, 
Deliver'd  be  to  us,  that  them  we  may 
Hang  up,  in  Gibeah,  unto  the  Lord. 
To  their  demand  King  David  did  accord. 

Small  choice  he  had,  out  of  Saul's  house,  to  take 
Sev'n  men,  atonement  for  Saul's  sin  to  make. 
Mephibosheth,  he  had  a  special  care, 
For  Jonathan  his  father's  sake  to  spare  : 
Having  regard  to  friendship,  and  the  *  oath 
Which  long  before  had  pass'd  between  them  both. 

Of  all  Saul's  sons,  but  two  were  now  alive, 
(Unhappy  they,  that  they  did  him  survive,. 
To  undergo  an  ignominious  death 
For  his  offence)   of  these  Mephibosheth* 
The  younger  was  ">  Armoni  was  the  other  ; 
Both  sons  of  Rizpah,  their  ami&ed  mother. 
Five  sons  of  Merab  to  make  up  the  tale 
He  pitch'd  upon.     Merab  might  well  bewail 
Her  double  loss.      Of  David  first,  and  then 
Of  her  five  sons  :   A  set  of  proper  men. 
For  had  she  married  David  (which  of  right 
She  should  have  done)  she,    without  question,   might 
Have  still  enjoy'd  her  sons  :   herself  have  been 
A  joyful  mother,  and  a  happy  queen. 

The  number  thus  complete,  the  king  commands 
They  should  be  given  up  into  the  hands 

•  i  Sam.  xx.  43=. 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  14? 

Of  the  wrong'd  Gibeonites,  they  in  a  word, 
Hang'd  them  up,  man  by  man,  before  the  Lord. 

This  needful  execution  being  done. 
When  barley-harvest  was  but  new  begun  ; 
And  the  dead  bodies  being  to  remain 
Unhuried  'til  the  Lord,  by  sending  rain 
(The  want  of  which  was  the  next  cause  of  dearth) 
Should  his  acceptance  shew,  and  bless  the  earth  : 
Religious  Rizpah,  that  she  might  defend 
These  uninterred  bodies,   did  attend 
During  the  time,  as  well  by  night  as  day, 
That  neither  bird,  nor  beast,   might  on  them  prey. 
For  which  end,  on  the  rock,  where  they  lay  dead* 
She  a  pavilion  did  of  sackcloth  spread. 

Which  pious  a6l  of  hers  when  David  heard 
(After  the  Lord  propitious  had  apppar'd) 
He  took  the  bones  of  Saul,  wlr'ch  did  remain 
At  Jabesh  Gilead  (where  they  long  had  lain) 
Together  with  the  bones  of  Jonathan, 
H's  nolle  friend  (a  brave  and  worthy  man) 
And  gathering  up  the  bones  of  these,  w  hq  now: 
Had  hanged  been  ;  he  on  them  did  bestow 
A  funeral  ;  awl  di  1  them  a1!  inter 
3  i  ICish,  their  father's  prpper  sepulchre. 
Which  done,  according  to  the  kings  command, 
The  Lord  was  pleas'd  again  to  bless  the  land. 

CHAP.  V. 

WHEN  now  the  Lord  had  his  anointed  blest, 
As  well  with  inward  peace,  as  outward  rest  j. 
Having  subdu'd  his  enemies,  and  made 
His  neighbours,  round  about  him,  all  afraid.    . 
Him  to  offend  ;  so  that  he  now  could  say 
Unto  his  friend,  this  is  the  happy  *  day 
The  Lord  hath  made  ;  let  us,  with  tuneful  voice, 
And  thankful  heart,  in  this  his  day  rejoice. 

When 
*  Pfahn  csviii,  34, 


148  DAVIDEIS.  Book    V. 

When  to  this  peaceful  state  the  happy  king 
Had  thus  attain'd,  that  he  could  sweetly  sing 
Psalms  of  thanksgiving,  while  his  fingers  play'd, 
And  on  his  harp  melodious  music  made  : 
The  restless  adversary  of  mankind 
(Who  mischief  always  had  to  men  design'd) 
Envying  the  happiness  which  now  befel, 
Under  so  good  a  king,  poor  Israel, 
Did  with  a  thought  his  royal  breast  inspire, 
Which  quickly  set  both  heart  and  head  on  fire  ; 
It  kindled  in  him  an  ambitious  mind 
To  know  his  strength,  and  strongly  him  inclin'd, 
Unmindful  of  th'  Almighty's  will,  to  dare 
To  number  all  the  people  fit  for  war. 

To  Joab  therefore,  as  his  general, 
He  gave  command  to  go,  and  number  all 
The  people,  fit  for  war  in  every  tribe  ; 
And,  in  a  muster-roll,  their  names  describe  ; 
That  he  might  thereby  know   (vain  mind,  alas  \y 
How  strong,  in  military  force  he  was. 

The  snare  which  David  saw  not,  Joab  saw, 
And  labor'd  David  from  it  to  withdraw  ; 
But  all  in  vain.      The  king  was  fully  bent 
To  have  his  will ;  Joab  about  it  went 
Unwillingly  ;  and,  in  some  ten  months  time, 
Returning,  shew'd  the  king  his  strength  and  crime. 

For  he  no  sooner  the  account  gave  in, 
But  David,  smitten  in  himself,  his  sin 
Confessing,  said,   I  sinned  greatly  have 
In  that  which  I  have  done.     And  now  I  crave 
Thy  pardon,   Lord  ;  and  do  most  humbly  pray, 
That  thou'lt  be  pleas'd  to  take  my  sin  away. 
Ah  !    sensible  I  am,  that  herein  I 
Have  err'd,  and  done  exceeding  foolishly. 

Next  morning  God,  in  high  displeasure,  sent 
His  prophet,  to  denounce  a  punishment 
To  iiavid  for  his  sin.      The  prophet  goes, 
And  thus  his  message  doth  to  him  disclose. 

«  Thus. 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  14» 

"  Thus  salth  the  Lord,  three  sorts  of  punishment 
"  I  set  before  thee,  and  am  fully  bent 
"  O  -ie  of  them  to  inflift  :  but  leave  to  thee 
"  The  choice,  which  of  them  shall  inflicted  be. 
u  Choose  therefore  one  ;  which  I  to  thee  may  do  : 
f<  For  thy  offence  shall  not  unpunish'd  go. 
**  Shall  *  three  years  more  of  famine  in  thy  land 
4t   (Which  three  years  hath  already  suffer'd)  stand  ? 
"  Or  wilt  thou,  for  three  months  together  flee 
"  Before  thine  enemies,  and  chased  be  ? 
"  Or  shall,  throughout  thy  land,  the  pestilence 
"   For  three  days  rage,  to  punish  thine  offence  V 
Be  now  advis'd,  said  Gad,  think  well  what  word 
I  shall,  from  thee,  return  unto  the  Lord. 

Here  the  gradations  sink,  as  it  appears, 
From  months  to  days,  and  unto  months  from  years, 
Three  months  of  bloody  war,  'tis  likely,  may 
As  many  as  three  years  of  famine  slay. 
And  three  days  pestilence  accounted  are 
To  equal  three  months  of  devouring  war. 

Great  was  the  strait  poor  David  now  was  in 
(Ah  !   what  but  straits  attend  presumptuous  sin  !) 
Which  of  the  three  to  choose  he's  unprepar'd, 
To  choose  was  favour :  but  the  choice  was  hard. 

Famine  the  land  had  felt  so  late  before  : 
That  too  would,  first  and  most ,  affect  the  poor, 
Himself  it  would  not  reach  ;  to  whom,  he  knew, 
The  rod  was  chiefly,  though  not  only  due. 

Like  reason  was  of  war.      In  person  he 
Might  be,  for  three  months  time,  from  danger  free. 
Besides,  if  Isr'el  should  be  beat  and  fly 
So  long-  and  oft,  it  might  the  enemy 
Embolden,  of  their  strength  or  cause,  to  boast ; 
And  to  blaspheme  the  Lord,  the  God  of  hosts. 

These  therefore  wavM,  the  king  r.-.solv'd,  at  last, 
Himself  into  the  hand  of  God  to  cast. 

Into 

*  I  Chron.  xxi,  12. 


150  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V- 

Into  the  hand  of  God,  said  he  lets  fall  ; 
And  humbly  unto  him  for  mercy  call-. 
His  mercy's  great.      I  by  experience,  know 
He  will,  upon  repentance,  mercy  show. 
In  him  I  trust.     To  him,  distrest  I  fly. 
And  on  his  tender  mercies  I  rely. 
But  let  me  not  into  the  hands  of  man 
Be  cast ;  for  he  will  do  the  worst  he  can. 

The  choice  thus  made,  the  pestilence  is  sent 
Throughout  the  land  ;  the  angel  swiftly  went, 
Waving  his  flaming  sword,  whereby  there  fell 
Seventy  thousand  men    in  Israel, 
In  three  days  time.      But  when  the  angel  came 
To  shake  his  blade  against  Jerusalem, 
(The  royal  city  the  imperial  seat, 
The  cabinet  of  what  was  choice  and  great) 
T'he  mournful  king,  with  Isr'els  elders,  clad 
In  sackcloth,  with  their  countenances  sad, 
Fell  on  their  faces  at  the  dreadful  sight 
OF  that  devouring  blade,  stretch'd  out  to  smite 
The  people  ;   and  the  trembling  king  thus  pour'd 
His  supplication  forth  before  the  Lord. 

"  Ah  !   am  not  I  the  man,  that  gave  command 
"  The  people  should  be  number'd  thro'  the  land ! 
**  'Tis  even  I  that  did  this  sin  commit, 
u  O  that  I  only  suffer  might  for  it  ! 
"  On  me,  and  on  my  house,  O  Lord,  I  pray,  . 
"   Be  pleas'c,  for  what  remains,  thy  hand  to  lay  ! 
"   But  not  upon  the  people  in  this  city  ; 
"  Oh  !    on  these  harmless  sheep,   I  pray  have  pity  ; 
"  And  let  not  them  be  plagu'd  for  my  offence  ; 
«  Accept  my  p;ay'er,  regard  their  innocence. " 

This  earnest  s  pplication  heaven  pierc'd, 
And  the  remaina  r  of  the  doom  revers'd, 
The  Lord  repent  ng,  to  the  angel  said  ; 
It  is  enough.      New  let  thii.e  hand  be  staid. 

The  atigel  stoo.-     when  this  blest  word  was  giVn. 
By  Oman's  threshing  floor,  'twixt  earth  and  heav'n. 

And 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  151 

And  Oman  (or  Araunah)  when  he  spy'd 
The  angel,  ran,  with  his  four  sons,  to  hide. 

But  David,  being  by  Gad  instructed,  went 
•To  buy  the  threshing-floor,  with  full  intent 
To  rear  an  altar,  in  that  very  place, 
Unto  the  Lord  ;  and  their  to  seek  his  face, 

Araunah,  looking  forth,  and  seeing  the  king 
Approaching,  on  the  ground  himself  did  fling, 
The  cause  enquiring,  which  had  brought  him  there  ; 
Which  in  so  great  a  prince,  must  great  appear. 
My  bus'ness,  answer'd  David,  is  to  buy 
Of  thee  thy  threshing-floor,  that  thereon  I 
May  raise  an  altar  to  the  Lord,  and  see 
If  by  peace-oft;'rings  he  appeas'd  will  be. 
That  so,  his  just  displeasure  being  allay'd, 
The  plague,  inflicled  on  us,  may  be  stay'd. 

O,  said  Araunah,  let  my  lord  the  king 
Accept  the  ground  ;  thou  needest  nothing  bring. 
The  oxen  for  burnt  off 'rings,  and  the  wheat, 
Accept,  for  the  meat  ofPring,  I  intreat ! 
The  threshing  instruments  may  serve  the  turn 
Instead  of  wood,  the  offerings  to  burn, 
And  may'st  thou  by  the  Lord  accepted  be 
As  sure  as  these  are  freely  giv'n  by  me, 

Nay,  hold,  said  David,  do  not  think  that  1 
A  begging  came  ?  I  came  indeed  to  buy  ; 
And  buy  I  will ;  and  that  too  at  full  price  ; 
What's  not  my  own  I  will  not  sacrifice. 
Nor  will  I  that,  for  which  I  gave  no  costs, 
Pretend  to  offer  to  the  Lord  of  hosts. 

The  price  then  set,  and  paid,  an  altar  there 
King  David  to  the  Lord  his  God  did  rear  : 
And  thereon  offer'd  to  appease  the  Lord, 
Burnt  off'rings  and  peace  off'nngs  and  implor'd 
His  gracious  pardon.     And  the  Lord,  who  knew 
That  David's  heart  was  right,  his  sorrow  true,    ' 
Vouchsafe  to  answer  h  m  by  fire,  which  came 
From  heav'n,  upon  the  altar,  in  a  flame, 

O  By 


152  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V. 

By  which  he  shew'd  his  anger  was  appeasM, 
And  he,  with  David's  sacrifice,  was  pleas'd. 

Thus  ceas'd  the  plague,  with  seventy  thousand  slain, 
By  which  so  many  fewer  did  remain 
To  serve  the  king.     And  tho'  the  Lord  thought  fit 
To  spare  the  man  that  did  the  sin  commit  ; 
Yet,  in  his  kingly  state,  in  part  he  dy'd  ; 
At  least  was  wounded  through  his  peoples  side. 
For  kings  and  subjects  are  cor-relatives  ; 
The  one  must  die,  unless  the  other  lives. 
Herein,  however,  divine  providence 
Suited  the  punishment  to  the  offence  : 
That  since,  of  numbers,  David  fain  would  boast, 
He  of  his  number  seventy  thousand  lost. 

CHAP.  VI. 


AGE  now,  and  the  expence  of  blood  in  war, 
To  weakness,  had  reduc'd  the  king  so  far, 
That,  though  against  the  cold  they  did  him  arm 
With  store  of  clothes,  they  scarce  could  keep  him  warm; 
Wherefore  they  for  a  fair  young  virgin  sought, 
Whom  having  found,  unto  the  king  they  brought, 
Her  name  Abishag,  she  a  Shunamite, 
Who  on  the  king  should  wait  both  day  and  night* 
She  stood  at  hand,  to  serve  him  all  the  day  ;  ^ 

And,  when  night  came,  she  in  his  bosom  lay  ; 
Whereby  her  nat'ral  heat  she  did  impart 
Unto  the  king  ;  which  did  refresh  his  heart. 
Thus  led  she  a  concubinary  life  : 
Yet  did  the  king  not  know  her  as  a  wife. 

His  eldest  son,  then  living,  was  a  prince 
Of  an  aspiring  mind  ;  who,  ever  since 
The  death  of  Absalom,  himself  did  hold 
Heir  to  the  crown,  and  thereupon  grew  boldt 
His  name  was  Adonijah,  which  doth  sound 
A  ruling  lord  ;  and  such  he  would  be  found. 

A  goodly 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  153 

A  goodly  man,  for  personage,  was  he, 

And  from  correction  had  been  always  free. 

For  the  king's  lenity  to  him  was  such, 

He  never  had  displeased  him,  so  much 

As  but  to  say  unto  him,  O  my  son, 

What  is  the  cause,  thou  so,  or  so  hast  done  ? 

He  long  had  cast  his  eye  upon  the  throne, 
As  counting,  if  not  calling,  it  his  own, 
And  reckon'd  he  sustain'd  no  little  wrong, 
In  that  his  father  sat  upon't  so  long. 
But  now,  his  father's  age,  and  feeble  state, 
Made  him  resolve,  he  would  no  longer  wait ; 
But  take  possession  of  the  royal  crown, 
Ascend  the  throne,  and  thrust  his  father  down. 

In  order  thereunto,  he  did  provide 
Chariots  and  horsemen   (for  both  guard  and  pride) 
And  fifty  men,  who  should  before  him  run  ; 
Like  as  his  brother  Absalom  had  done. 

Then  into  the  conspiracy  he  drew 
Joab,  his  father's  gen'ral  ;  who,  he  knew, 
Among  the  soldiery  great  interest  had, 
And  to  his  cause,  could  strength  and  credit  add. 
Abiathar,  the  priest  he  also  got 
To  join  with  him,  and  consecrate  his  plot. 

Both  he  and  Joab  had  stood  right  before, 
When  Absalom  rebell'd  ;  and  to  restore 
The  king,  they  labour* d  hard,  unto  his  crown, 
What  pity  'twas  they  now  the  pail  kick'd  down. 

Joab  indeed,  some  colour  might  pretend 
For  his  defection.      He  might  apprehend, 
(Not  without  reason)  since  he  lost  his  place. 
He  stood  but  loosly  in  the  royal  grace. 

But  for  the  priest,  no  cause  as  yet  we  see, 
Which  might,  in  his  excuse,  alledged  b 
Unless  it  were,  what  among  such  dH^un, 
An  aptness  to  adore  the  rising  sun. 
David  declin'd  apace  ;  ready  to  set, 
Young  Adonijah  ready  up  to  gat. 

The 


154  DAVIDEIS.  Book   V. 

The  plot  now  being  ripe,  the  time  at  hand, 
Wherein  he  meant  all  Isr'el  to  command  ; 
He  made  a  royal  feast  ;  fat  cattle  slew, 
Both  sheep  and  oxen  ;  and  to  it  he  drew 
His  brethren,  the  king's  sons  (e'en  every  one 
Of  them,  excepting  only   Solomon) 
And  with  them  Joab  and  Abiathar  : 
And  all  the  men  of  Judah,  though  they  were 
The  king's  own  servants  :   and  with  them  too  most 
Of  the  brave  captains  of  his  father's  host  ; 
Who,  when  the  wine  their  spirits  did  inflame, 
Should  Adonijah,  for  their  king  proclaim. 

Just  in  the  nick,  the  prophet  Nathan  got 
The  knowledge  of  this  execrable  plot  : 
And  wisely  weighing,  how  he  might  prevent 
The  dire  effects  thereof,  away  he  went 
Unto  queen  Bathsheba,  and  her  surpriz'd 
With  the  relation  of  it :  then  advis'd 
Her  to  the  king  immediately  to  go, 
And  open,  to  the  king,  the  matter  so, 
That  he  the  danger  deeply  in  may  take  ; 
And,  to  prevent  it,  due  provision  make. 
And,  added  he,  whilst  thou  yet  speaking  art 
Unto  the  king,  I'll  come  and  take  thy  part. 
Then  her  instrucxing,  how  she  should  begin 
The  matter,  he  withdrew  ;  and  she  went  in. 

Come  to  the  presence  of  thtrking,  she  bow'd, 
(Alter  such  manner  as  they  then  allcw'd) 
An:'  being  by  the  king  ask'd,  what  she  would  I 
She  in  such  terms  as  these,  her  bus'ness  told. 
•'  Thou  once  my  lord,  unto  thine  handmaid  sware, 
"   By  the  Almighty  (who  doth  witness  bear) 
"  That,  ait^r  thee,  thy  servant  Solomon 
"   Should  rejttte&nd  sit  upon  his  father's  throne. 
"   Y^t  now,TSBftl  Adonijah  cL'h  reign  : 
"  And  he  hath  oxen,  and  fat  cattle  slain 
**   In  great  abundance,  and  a  feast  hath  made  : 
«  To  which  thine  other  socs  are  all  betray'd, 


Book  V,  DAVIDEIS.  155 

"  That  they  may  own  his  title  :  tho'  only  one 

"  Excluded,  is  thy  servant  Solomon. 

"  But,  upon  thee,  my  lord,  O  king,  the  eyes 

"  Of  Isr'el  are  :  that  thou  before  thou  dies, 

"   Shouldst  plainly  tell  them  who,  when  thou  art  gone,, 

u   Shall  thee  succeed  upon  the  royal  throne. 

**  Which,  if  to  do,  my  lord  the  king  shall  fail, 

"  And  Adonijah's  treason  should  prevail ; 

<■  When  thou,  my  lord,  shalt  with  thy  fathers  sleep, 

(The  thought  whereof  occasions  me  to  weep) 

"  It  then  shall  come  to  pass,  offenders  we, 

"  My  son  and  I,  shall  then  reputed  be."     ■ 

While  yet  she  spake,  the  prophet  Nathan  came 
Into  the  anti-chamber  ;  and  his  name 
Sent  in,  he  did  for  quick  admittance  sue, 
And  being  introduc'd,  the  queen  withdrew, 
The  prophet  quickly  his  obeisance  made, 
And  to  the  king,  in  haste,  abruptly  said, 
"  Dost  thou,  my  lord  the  king,  indeed  ordain 
"  That  Adonijah,  after  thee,  shall  reign  ? 
"  Or  hast  thou  said,  when  I  to  rest  am  gone, 
"  I  will  that  he  shall  sit  upon  my  throne  ? 
"  For  he  this  day  hath  made  a  royal  feast, 
"  And  to  it  hath  invited  many  a  guest  ; 
"  All  the  king's  sons   (except  prince  Solomon) 
"  Unto  his  feast :   at  his  request  are  gone, 
"  And  Joab;  with»the  captains  of  the  host, 
*'  He  doth  caress  ;  not  sparing  any  cost  : 
"  Nor  is  Abiathar  the  priest,  the  least 
"  Among  his  guests,  to  bless  the  trait'rous  feast, 
"  All  whom  that  he  may  richly  entertain, 
u  Fed  cattle  in  abundance  he  hath  slain. 
14  They  eat,  drink,  sing,  loud  acclamations  give  : 
"  And  cry,  long  may  king  Adonijat^iye. 

"   But  me,  thy  servant,  and  thyfcpgliteiit  5011 
"   (Best  of  thy  sons)  the  brave  prince  Solomon, 
"  He  hath  not  call'd,  nor  Zadoek,  the  good  priest;, 
"  Nor  yet  Benajah,  to  his  treach'rous  feast. 

O  %  ■•  B 


156  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V. 

u   Is  this  thing,  by  my  lord's  appointment  done, 
"  A  nd  to  thy  servant,  it  thou  hast  not  shown  ? 
"   Or  hath  aspiring  Adonijah  chose 
"  This  time,  to  seize  the  crown,  and  thee  depose  :'* 

He  stopt.      But  what  had  heen  already  said, 
On  David's  mind,  a  deep  impression  made. 
He  had  not  yet  the  sad  effects  forgot, 
Of  his  son  Absalom's  disloyal  plot  ; 
How  hard  it  with  him  went  ;  what  dangers  he 
Was  in  ;  how  he  was  fain  for  life  to  flee  : 
Which  now  (so  weak  he  was)  he  could  not  do  : 
But  must,  whate'er  befel  him,  undergo. 
He  therefore  to  this  sore,  resolv'd  t'  apply 
A  speedy,  and  effectual  remedy. 
He  therefore  said,  call  Bathsheba  to  me  : 
She  soon  appear'd  with  awful  modesty, 
And  stood  before  him  (Nathan  out  was  gone 
Leaving  the  king  and  Bathsheba  alone) 
To  whom  the  king  thus  spake   (and  with  an  oath 
.Old  what  he  said  confirm,  between  them  both.) 
"  As  lives  the  Lord,  who  hath  redeemed  me. 
«*   From  all  distress,   I  now  declare  to  thee, 
"  As  I  engaged  solemnly  before, 
"  When  by  the  God  of  Israel  I  swore, 
<%  Assuring  thee,  that  Solomon,  thy  son, 
«i  Should  me  succeed,  and  sit  upon  my  throne-: 
"  That  will  I  certainly  perform  this  day  ; 
44   Thine  eye  shall  see  it  done  without  delay." 

The  queen,  most  humble  rev'rence  having  made^ 
Only,  long  live  my  lord  King  David,  said. 
By  which,  we  may  suppose,  she  wish'd  that  he 
Mtght  stiil  reign  on,  and  be  from  trouble  free. 

But  he,  upon  the  matter  more  intent, 
For  Zadock,  ^jbihan,  and  Benajah  sent, 
To  whom  he  ga*3|jSn  charge  that  they  should  strait- 
Take  ot  his  servants,  both  for  strength  and  state, 
Sufficient  numbers  ;  and  should  cause  his  son 
(The  Lord's  belov'd,  Jediah)  Solomon, 

On 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  157 

On  the  king's  mule,  in  royal  pomp,  to  ride 
(The  priest  and  prophet  walking  by  his  side, 
With  royal  guards  before  him  and  behind. 
And  all  the  people  who  were  well  inclin'd) 
Until  they  came  to  Gihon's  little  stream, 
Which  from  the  court  parted  Jerusalem. 
Let  Zadock  there,  and  Nathan  him  anoint  ; 
For  him  I  king  o'er  Israel  appoint, 
Said  David,  in  my  stead,  upon  my  throne 
To  sit  ;  and  hencefore  take  it  for  his  own. 

And  when  he  is  anointed,  forthwith  sound 
The  trumpet,  and  let  all  the  people  round, 
With  joyful  acclamations,  call  upon 
The  Lord  and  say,   God  save  King  Solomon. 
Then  bring  him  up,  that  he,  as  I  ordain, 
May  over  Israel  and  Judah  reign. 

Amen,  reply'd  Benajah  ;  and  O  may 
Thy  gracious  God  amen  unto  it  say  ! 
As  with  my  lord  the  king,  the  Lord  hath  been, 
So  may  he  too  with  Solomon  be  seen  : 
And  may  his  throne  transcend  thy  throne  as  far, 
As  other  thrones  to  thine  inferior  are. 

This  said,  away  they  altogether  go, 
Zadock  the  priest,  Nathan  the  prophet  too  ; 
Captain  Benajah,  with  the  king's  life  guard, 
The  Cheiethites,  and  Pelethites,  prepar'd 
The  king's  command  to  execute  ;  and  those 
To  slay,  who  should  them  in  the  work  oppose 

The  priest,  out  of  the  tabernacle,  took 
An  horn  of  oil  ;  and  down  to  Gihon-brook 
They  lead  prince  Solomon,  in  royal  state  : 
Priest,  prophet,  people,  gladly  on  him  wait, 
And  there  the  priest,  upon  his  princely  head, 
From  out  his  horn,  the  sacred  oil  did  shed. 
The  trumpet  then  was  blown,  and  thereupon 
The  people  cry'd  God  save  King  Solomon. 
Their  throats  were  then  distended  ;  and  the  sour.d 
Of  trumpets  was  by  that  of  voices  drovvn'd. 

Triumphant 


158  DAVIDEIS.  Book  V, 

Triumphant  noises  through  the  air  did  break, 
And  their  transporting  joys  did  loudly  speak. 
Such  acclamations  made  !   such  shouts  were  giv'n 
As  seem'd  to  read  the  earth,  and  pierce  the  heav'n? 

CHAP.  VII. 


BY  this  time  Adonijah,  and  the  rest 
Who  had  been  entertained  at  his  feast, 
Their  banquet  past,  were  ready  now  to  bring 
Him  forth  in  public,  to  proclaim  him  king  ; 
Buoy'd  up  with  confidence  of  their  success, 
A  priest  attending  them  the  work  to  bless  : 
And  the  old  gen'ral  Joab  at  their  head, 
The  military  forces  up  to  lead. 
When,  on  a  sudden,  the  rebounding  cries, 
Of  Solomon's  attendants,  them  surprize. 
They  heard,  and  started  ;  and  the  more  they  hear, 
The  more  they're  with  amazement  Gtruck,  and  fear. 
What,  said  old  Joab  (when  he  heard  the  sound 
Of  trumpets,  and  the  shouts  which  trumpets  drown'd) 
May  we  suppose  the  cause  cf  this  to  be  ? 
The  city  in  an  uproar  seems  to  me. 

White  yet  he  spake,  came  one  unto  the  door 
(Who  had  been  prowling  out  some  time  before) 
Jonathan  (who  was  son  unto  the  priest 
Abiathar,  of  traitors  not  the  least) 
Who  having  been  abroad  upon  the  scout, 
Had  seen  the  work  the  city  was  about. 

Him  Adonijah  seeing,   said,  come  in, 
And  tell  us  what  the  matter  is.      Begin  : 
For  thou  a  man  of  noted  valour  art, 
And  usually  good  tidings  dost  impart : 
Say,  what's  the  bus'ness  ?  ah,  alas  !   said  he, 
u  j\^    ridings  now  will  not  be  good  tc  thee  : 
**  j.0'  verily^  our  lord  King  David  now 
"  IJath  Solomon  made  king.'*     Then  told  him  how, 

Where*- 


Book  V.  DAVIDEIS.  1$9 

Where  and  by  whom,  it  managed  had  been  ; 
And  what,  relating  to't  he'd  heard  or  seen. 
Adding,  the  people's  joy,  for  their  new  king, 
They  so  exprest,  as  made  the  city  ring. 
And  that  the  noise  is,  which  ye  now  have  heard  ^ 
The  cause  of  which  is  justly  to  be  fear'd. 
For  Solomon  on  the  throne  doth  sit  ; 
And  doth  to  every  one  what  he  thinks  fit. 

At  this  report  the  guests  were  all  afraid, 
And  slipt  away  :   Not  one  among  them  staid 
With  Adonijah.     He,  as  well  he  might, 
Deserted  thus,  fled,  in  a  grievous  fright 
Unto  the  altar  ;  of  its  horns  laid  hold, 
Hoping  that  sacred  place  now   (as  of  old 
It  had  to  others  done)   might  him  protect, 
At  least  till  he  might  other  means  project 
His  pardon  to  obtain.      This  being  laid 
Before  king  Solomon,  he  thereon  said, 
If  he  himself  a  worthy  man  will  shew, 
There  shall,  for  this,  no  punishment  ensue- 
But  if  hereafter,  he  again  shall  try 
111  practices  against  me  he  shall  die. 

Then  Solomon  sent  messengers  to  bring 
Him,  from  the  altar,  down  unto  the  king  ; 
He  came,  and  to  the  king  himself  did  bow, 
Which  shew'd  he  did  his  sov'reignty  allow. 
The  king  dismissing  him,  this  only  said, 
Go  to  thy  house  ;  do  well ;  be  not  afraid. 

This  gentle  dealing,  th'  ancient  king  approv'd, 
No  doubt,  because  he  Adonijah  lov'd  ; 
And  therefore,  probably,  was  glad  to  see, 
In  his  successor,  so  much  lenity. 
Which  made  him  (when  his  courtiers  came  to  wait 
Upon"  him,  and  with  joy,  congratulate 
This  great  deliv'rance )  bow  himself  and  say, 
il   Blest  he  the  Lord,  e'en  Isr'el's  God,  this  day  ; 
"  Who  wnilst  I  am  living,  have  vouchsafed  one 
"  Of  mine  own  sons,  to  sit  upon  my  throae." 

The 


160  DAVIDEIS.  Book  T. 

The  sense  whereof  did  make  this  godly  king, 
Unto  the  Lord,  his  nunc  dimittis  sing. 
And  now  the  days  of  David  drawing  nigh, 
Wherein,  by  course  of  nature,  he  should  die  ; 
He  of  King  Solomon  his  leave  did  take  ; 
And  unto  him  he  thus,  at  parting,  spake. 

"  I  go  the  way  of  all  the  earth,  said  he  ; 
"  Be  strong,  and  let  the  man  appear  in  thee. 
"  God's  sacred  charge  observe  throughout  thy  days, 
"  And  walk  uprightly  in  his  holy  ways  ; 
"  His  statutes  keep  ;  his  high  commands  obey  ; 
"  His  judgments  dread  ;  his  dodtrines  all  display  : 
"  That  in  whate'er  thine  hand  doth  undertake, 
"  Thou  mayest  the  Lord  to  thee-  propitious  make 
H  Then  will  the  Lord  confirm  his  word,  which  he 
•*  Most  graciously  did  speak  concerning  me  : 
"  When  he,  some  years  ago,  was  pleas'd  to  *  say* 
**  If  thine  shall  take  good  heed  unto  their  way, 
*'  With  all  their  heart,  and  all  their  soul  to  walk 
"  In  truth  before  me  (justice  never  baulk) 
"  Then  shall  thou  never  want  a  favour* d  son^ 
"  To  sit  upon  the  Isr'elitish  throne." 

This  said,  he  Solomon  instruction  gave 
How  he,  hereafter,   should  himself  behave 
To  some,  who  had  from  their  allegiance  swerv'd  ; 
And  others,  who  of  him  had  well  deserv'd  :  . 
Then  having  seen  full  threescore  years  and  ten,. 
And  forty  passed  in  a  glorious  reign, 
He  with  his  father's  slept  and  was  interr'd 
In  his  own  city,  which  he  most  preferr'd  ; 
And  which  to  honour  him,  thenceforth  became 
The  royal  sepulchre  for  men  of  fame, 
And  now  my  muse,  might  she  so  high  presume, 
Would  write  this  epitaph  upon  hia  tomb. 

EPITPAH. 


*  z  Sam.  via.  12. 


EPITAPH. 


HERE  lies  King  David,  whose  sharp  sword  did  quell 
The  fiercest  enemies  of  Israel. 
Here  the  sweet  singer  lies,  whose  various  state, 
The  psalms  by  him  composed  do  relate, 
Here  lies  the  man,  who  (for  the  greatest  part),_ 
Did  walk  according  to  the  Lord's  own  heart. 
His  body  in  the  grave  below  doth  rest ; 
His  spirit  lives  above,  among  the  blest* 


<Y$E  ENfc. 


V 


^ .   ^ 


^ 
*>&$>" 


